A Break In Routine
by Gabi1994
Summary: Every family has a routine. What's normal, what's right, it gives a child that day to day security. It's those moments when routine is ripped away that shape the kind of man a child grows to be. Severus was hewn, a painful, arduous task of cutting away. Prequel to At the End
1. Chapter 1

A Break In Routine

The boy had always been a bit small for his age. He was thin and his frame slight. His father told him he was scrawny looking, girly. He was staring determinedly out the window above his bed, he could see a slit of sky, a scattering of stars like chips of broken glass… they did not look friendly tonight. There were the long fingers of his old friend the thick hazel and blackthorn hedgerow made a spiny lower border for the view from small upstairs window.

He flinched as a snippet of the argument downstairs raised above its steady unintelligible mutter.

"Don't you tell me—"

It was his da shouting, the low rumble was familiar, but no less unsettling as it drifted up through the vents into his little upstairs bedroom. He felt his stomach twist uncomfortably as his mother's higher quicker pitch made a retort. It was not like this every night… usually only two or three times a week, more often as of late. He didn't like it. It made him feel queasy, like he would be sick… it was a break in routine, even they had a routine. Friday nights, all through the weekend and usually Wednesday his father came home too drunk to do more than fall into bed, that meant they only argued Mondays, usually about how much he'd spent drinking or Fridays and Thursdays about the fact he would be going out drinking.

As usual, they were speaking at such a volume that his mind could trick itself into putting words to the cadence of the sound… but listening harder he knew he was imagining half of what he heard.

Still, the disquieting scraps drifted upward and washed over his ears a dull roar of sound, his gut tightened uncomfortably.

"The boy—" his father, the deep timbre at its usual roar.

"TOBIAS—"

Snape shuddered. His mother never raised her voice. Her customary low, soothing murmur was raised to a piercing shriek of disdain that made him curl instinctively into a ball. His warm, scratchy woolens were cocooned tightly around his body, despite the heat of the summer night oozing in over the open sill. The worn fibers did little to hamper the adult voices below.

"Hogwash! The lot of it!"

"—going, no matter what you say."

"Head of—" Snape heard a distinct thump and hoped it was his father knocking another dent in their thin grey drywall, and not the alternative, "He'll do what I say he'll do."

"NO!" again, that furious screech, he clapped both small hands over his ears staring blindly out over the night haze of hedgerows and leaning, dilapidated homes and broken stars in a grey clouded sky.

His back ached from his curled position, but he dared not move… it seemed more secure somehow… as if he were protected this way from the horrible things being said below.

Only… only he really wasn't. He felt sick. every word was like cold sharp stone settling on his belly, pressing in past his skin prickling at his stomach. They were fighting over him. It was awful. They fought enough, why should they have to fight over him too?

He vowed to be better tomorrow. Tomorrow he wouldn't run or play too loud and disturb mother. He would help her with dinner and clean up the yard. He would stay quiet when father got home. It felt like a drinking night, so he would just have to stay out of the way for an hour or so… maybe he would go to the park. Da didn't like him to be around for dinner. He ate after, mum kept a plate for him in the oven.

He'd messed up today. He'd only been trying to help. Mum was still trying to plate up dinner and the table was still dirty from lunch… he'd heard da at the door…

He only wanted to help… but the table was too high for him to reach, he was small for his age, five and he couldn't see over the table top… he wouldn't have broken a single dish if da hadn't gotten him by the ear… one of the plates he'd been hovering over to the sink had shattered.

Now the hot ache of his rear end from da's belt was nothing to the roiling nausea in his gut. He would be good tomorrow.

He heard his father bellow something unintelligible before there was a crash… it was really quiet after that and Severus stuffed his pillow between his teeth to muffle his sobs. Mum didn't need to be worrying about him to.

He would be good tomorrow.

* * *

><p>He shivered, it was cold out. He could feel the snap of frost on his pale cheeks as the sun went down and his breath was warm fog over his frozen nose and blued lips.<p>

The downstairs light was still on. If he went in before father stumbled to bed, he would get the belt. Even if he didn't do anything more than toe off his shoes and sneak upstairs. He waved his hand impatiently warming the air around him minutely as he huddled down against the thorny hedge. He was getting too big to fit up under the hedge without getting scratches all along the back of his neck and arms… if he ripped his shirt he'd get a hiding…

He was getting good at fixing the little tears. It probably wouldn't be a problem.

As the chill of night grew on he waited staring at the wavering gas light. After what seemed ages, and his toes had become numb, it flickered on then off then on again. Unfolding from his tight space beneath the blackthorn he muffled a groan as his knees and shoulders and back protested moving after perhaps an hour's stillness.

The routine was fine… except that it was getting darker and colder earlier every evening, and father returning home later. He suspected a less hardy child than he would have died of pneumonia by now. He was also beginning to suspect that this might be the intention.

He opened the door soundlessly and eased into the narrow atrium toeing cold leather off his feet and padding in worn woolen socks into the dim kitchen. Mum was sitting at the table. Across from her, in its usual place was his plate.

The woman looked old, her cheeks tight and pinched. Her inky black hair was graying at the temples and a few peppered strands had escaped the low bun and lay clinging to her cheeks, like old spider webs to bone. She smiled, but it only emphasized her skeletal thinness.

Sliding into his seat Severus silently set about his meal. His motions were mechanical, and he barely stopped to chew the steamed carrots and potatoes. Mum would worry if he neglected his veggies. He ate about half of the slice of meatloaf before setting his fork aside and sliding the plate across the table toward the skeletal woman who shared his hair, eyes, and eggshell pale skin.

"I'm full, mum, sorry. Will you finish?" he asked.

She smiled faintly, "Severus, a growing boy needs to eat."

He scrunched up his nose, "I ate the veggies like you like."

She sighed, "Alright, you go on up to bed."

The gaunt child, older than seven but younger than ten, rose from his seat just as silently as he had come. He dropped a dry peck on his mother's upturned cheek, the skin cool and papery feeling to his lips and tiptoed on worn wool clad feet to the stairs. Snape waited at the bottom until his mother began to absently finish off the meatloaf on his plate.

She'd been raised a catholic. She absolutely could not leave food on a plate. But lately, she was always too nervous to eat otherwise. The neighbor ladies whispered in voices just a little too loud strange, meaningless words like "nervous tension" and "depression". Severus didn't like those words. He had a better one, fear.

* * *

><p>He'd met a girl at the park today. She had the most brilliant red hair. It was lovely and bright. Much lovelier than other red things, like blood on whiskey bottle glass, and hedgerow thorns, it was cleaner than most other red things, like mum's old scarf and the ball he vaguely remembered playing catch with his Father with once when he was very small.<p>

She was nice.

Maybe, tomorrow she would stay at the park late and he would have somebody to play with while he waited for Father to pass out.

That would be a nice break in the routine.

* * *

><p>He'd showed the red girl, Lily. He'd showed her one of his little tricks.<p>

Oh how scared he'd been. Father got so angry to see such "devil's tricks" but the Lily liked them. Lily smiled and laughed and it sounded even lovelier than her cardinal hair looked. He'd showed her a floating ring of daisies and sugar maple helicopters that never stopped spinning. He'd made her smile.

It was even better when she'd showed him a cloud of dandelion fluff that made shapes. She'd made a bunny rabbit, a kitten, and a chick. The chick had made cheeping noises, it made him laugh.

It had taken a long time for him to be able to do the same. It was easy to move one or two things, it was rather difficult to manipulate a whole cloud of dandelion seeds. He'd made a fish and a little fat mouse, for her kitten to eat. It made her laugh. He liked it when she laughed.

* * *

><p>Severus had never seen his mum and father really fight till his letter came. He supposed father never really thought it was going to happen. It was much easier to ignore your wife, when she made excuses for her demonic son, then a signed and sealed letter delivered by a great horned owl to your front porch.<p>

He'd gotten the belt for no reason at all and been sent upstairs. Agitated he paced the worn carpet flooring listening to the shouting downstairs.

He preferred the shouting. It meant everyone was whole enough to shout. It was concerning when it got quiet. Quiet meant one of two things, father had passed out from the drink… or mother had. Severus was unsure what was worse, when the tension got to her and she fainted, or father lost his patience…

He shuddered as his mother shouted obscenities he'd never heard even father use.

He sunk down against the edge of his bed resting his head on the mattress. The smell of wool and mustiness had almost been banished by the greenness of summer. He closed his eyes. He couldn't stand it.

Why did it make father so furious? It wasn't an evil thing. Lily could do it to, and she wasn't evil. Lily was nice. Apparently there was a whole school full of kids who did odd things like him. Wasn't that a good thing? Then Severus wouldn't need to be here, always underfoot, being seen and infuriating him.

If he weren't here father and mum would have much less to argue about. If he weren't here, mum wouldn't worry about him, she wouldn't have to stay up late for him to eat. She wouldn't have to stand up to father for him and she wouldn't get hurt.

He cringed as the argument rose to a crescendo pitch each word painfully clear.

His father's roars, his mum screaming her rebuttal, more lively now than she has been in months.

He covered his ears and pulled his blanket over his head. It made little difference.

* * *

><p>Drop a review... If you're inclined. I wasn't actually going for angst here... rather the unstable, teetering on the cliff feeling a child gets when the stability of a family is eroding out from under them.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Ch 2

He'd been nervous to have that big, shouting hat lowered over his head, but he hadn't shown it. couldn't show it, not with Lily having skipped up there so happily, now watching him with a bright cheery face, her red hair matching the clothing and tablecloths massed about her at the Gryffindor table.

Knowing nothing much about the other three tables, one in green, was that Slytherin? One in blue, Ravenclaw, and then the bronze of Hufflepuff, he rather hoped he would be put with Lily.

Slowly the crinkled old leather hat was lowered over his head. It felt funny pressed in over his ears. Dimly he could hear the hat shouting, "Hmm… hmmm, curious…"

But far louder was the crackly old voice, of an old man murmuring seeming nonsense in his ear, "Ah, a smart one, smart enough for Ravenclaw, that's assured, but not I think, interested for the sake of knowledge, no, no useless academia, or knowledge for the sake of learning for you. No you want to be strong and you are quick enough, talented enough that soon you will be. A brave boy, yes, no doubt, loyal too, to those who deserve your loyalty. But cold, and hardened to be so, and cautious, so young, you want to be strong, strong to protect those you love… well… hmmm, the fastest way to power, to the kind of strength you want is Slytherin. You know this well, you are growing, but still too small and untried in magic for might, but cunning you have and Slytherin will train you up. Yes, yes Slytherin will do nicely."

The stray thought, "Lily's in Gryffindor," passed his thoughts, bringing the old doddering voice up short.

"Hmm… yes… Gryffindor, you could go there. You are brave enough, but it would be a waste of your cunning, a waste of your quickness, and it will take much longer for you to be strong like you desire. You are too solitary, too independent I think to be happy in Gryffindor… but in time, you would grow to be like them, like your friend, you might even become daring and headstrong, good Gryffindor qualities. But I still thing Slytherin suits a mind such as yours best, though if you truly desire Gryffindor…"

Severus was stymied. He met Lily's eyes across the hall. He wanted to be with Lily, but… mum… mum's bright smile, the fire that had lit in her dark, well beloved eyes as she had dropped him off at the station, her bruising hug outside the platform, her soft fierce whisper to work hard and grow big and strong. He had to be strong, and fast, he had to become someone who could protect mum. Someone his father would think twice about beating.

"So you have made your choice," the hat mused.

"SLYTHERIN!" he heard shouted across the great hall, then the hat was lifted from his head as the green table clapped and the tall, bespectacled witch behind him patted his shoulder in congratulations gesturing toward the green and silvered portion of the hall.

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School taught Severus many things. Ever a quick child, in Slytherin he learned there were better ways to deal with larger meaner people, than curling up and taking it. He learned how to get his own back later, when they were least expecting it, and doing it in such as way as he was never bothered again. He learned that to be alone was alright, but to be isolated was vulnerable. He made… alliances with those most likely to make him strong.

It might be alright to bother little, nobody Severus Snape, but when it became known the Black sister's liked him and Lucius Malfoy found him interesting, his hecklers, at least within Slytherin dropped like flies.

He understood how Slytherin worked. You didn't necessarily need a name, though it helped to become strong, one merely had to be useful to those higher than you.

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"You there!" the voice was imperious, even coming from a tall, thin, almost pretty boy… one of the Slytherin prefects Severus recognized.

The dark boy looked up from his book lifting his head to look up at the boy, standing over his chair, looming to great effect, mainly due to the two large boys maybe a year his senior flanking him.

A quick glance at the thugs, and a scan of the blonde revealed his identity, all the Slytherins knew of Malfoy. He was a young lord amongst his peers and knew it.

"Malfoy," he hazarded to greet the older boy in a bland, but respectful tone.

"Hn, so you already know of me," the other was flattered, it put Severus in his good graces, "I fear you have the best of me, as I do not know you, and I could have sworn I knew every child of the houses that sort Slytherin."

Feeling, cornered in the armchair, Severus set aside his book rising and extending his hand to the other. Severus felt satisfaction stir, when youth took a step back, not instinctively not wanting to crowd, the small, seemingly harmless child.

"Severus Snape…"

"Lucius, I have not heard of the Snape family…" suddenly cold eyes scanned him in a calculating manner.

Unwilling to back down Severus smiled a thin smile, "You would not have, but my mother is a Prince, and surely you have heard of them,"

Even after barely a full week here, he knew not to openly admit to muggle parentage, not in Slytherin, not even only half wizarding parentage. So he left it open. Snape might be a foreign name, for no matter how small the wizarding community a boy of fifteen could not possibly know every name.

Immediately the hostility in the blonde's stance evaporated and his two hulking companions shuffled back a step, perceiving their master's intentions had turned friendly.

"Ah, a Prince then, wonderful family the Princes, good blood, powerful wizards. I confess I had been hearing interesting rumors about you, and I wished to make your acquaintance."

Severus sniffed, putting on a disdainful air, "People talk, less than the half is true."

The little lord laughed delightedly, the sound jarringly youthful and bright, in contrast to the inherent threat in the boy, "I like you, Severus. You're smart. And I'd like to be acquainted with a boy who shredded less than half of a third year's wardrobe for trying to put a puking potion into his pumpkin juice. Too bad it can just be charmed back."

Briefly Severus thought about denying it, but decided that a bit of infamy couldn't hurt, even if the prefect chose to punish him. He smirked, "No it can't be."

"Oho! You are good. I'd like to introduce you to some people if you'd allow me, Severus."

Severus scanned the boy up and down, his bright black eyes flicking over the two flanking sixth years, this was a boy to become close to, he had power here, "I'd like that, Lucius."

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Severus liked Wednesday evenings. On Wednesdays Lily would meet him in the library, and they would catch up and study together. Lily was really good at potions and charms. Severus liked potions and defense against the dark arts, but charms went a bit over his head. Luckily, Lily couldn't quite get the brute force type spells of DADA, thought it was too violent, so Severus would help her with simpler spells, in exchange for charms help.

Sometimes they would meet up early, early Saturday morning out on the green to practice spells. It was fun. Last week Lily almost managed a leg lock. His legs had been frozen from the knees down for about thirty seconds, before he could wiggle out. He on the other hand was trying to master a freezing charm. Lily could produce snowflakes from water flicked at her, and tap a goblet to get a solid block of ice. He on the other hand was lucky if he could get a film of ice over the top of the water.

He didn't like it. He could warm things up easy. He half didn't need a wand, so long as he didn't need anything boiling, but cold was hard. Things wanted to warm up, they didn't want to be cold.

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When Narcissa Black seated herself beside him on the small couch Severus was reading on he wasn't terribly surprised. Since they had been introduced by the Lucius two months ago, Narcissa had taken a liking to him.

He supposed she was waiting about for Lucius and wanted company, therefore he didn't bother to look up from the potions text he was trying to divine sense from.

"Severus, there's something I feel we've neglected to explain to you," the fourth year broached.

He looked up immediately, this was unusual behavior from the girl and he didn't quite know what to expect.

"This isn't something Lucius understands. He's never been the underdog. Even as a first year he had Crabbe and Goyle watching his back when his name wasn't enough," the girl smiled indulgently, "Little lordling that he was."

Her bluebird bright eyes refocused on him, "But you're, like me," she noticed his dark eyes narrowing and smiled gently, "Tut, tut, I don't mean you're feminine. This is something people like you have to know."

Severus frowned slightly, "What would you know about being an underdog. You're a Black, untouchable."

Narcissa shook her head, "No, perhaps that's the wrong word… Lucius doesn't understand how to get his way when physical threat… and brute force don't succeed. I, under my own power, have no ability to threaten any boy of my age. They know exactly the same hexes I do, but they are bigger," she smiled teasingly at him poking him gently in the chest, "You are like me, puny."

Severus kept his face perfectly bland, but the girl smiled triumphantly, she could see the cold fury in youthful black eyes. One day the boy would be a terror, but until he was big enough to back up that fury, he needed what she could teach him.

"You see, I've made you angry, but what will you do about it?" the sharp girl leaned back against the arm rest studying the child on the other end, the book had been set aside, and the faintest flush of anger showed on his pale cheeks.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully, "Were I another first year boy, you'd jump across the couch and box my ears, but I'm a girl, and bigger than you. So, revenge later, but I'm dating Lucius, so you can't leave something unpleasant in my bed, or hex one of my hair ribbons. You must control your temper. What. Will. You. Do."

This brought the small boy up short. This wasn't the usual teasing he reminded himself. This was a lesson, his hot anger cooled almost instantly and he tilted his head slightly at Narcissa, silently asking.

"Ah, you don't know, you've spent too long with Lucius… His methods will work beautifully in most situations, practically all, once you've grown a bit. Until then, let me show you something."

Standing from the couch she scanned the common room. It was fairly empty, only a few students were loitering about the clusters of seating.

"Rosier!" Narcissa called out motioning for the large Slytherin beater to make his way over. The youth was large for his age, a third year, he was taller than Narcissa by a head at least.

She smiled prettily at Rosier, always a bad sign, "Rosier, can you do me a favor? I want you to grab me in as though you were trying to intimidate me."

The younger boy quirked a brow, "Rough up Malfoy's little lady? I think not."

She waved her hand dismissively, "Not really, I'm trying to teach Severus here something," she smiled again, her head tipping to the side, slightly.

Rosier scrubbed a hand through his short dark hair eyeing the slight girl before him in askance. Then the large boy shrugged and reached out grabbing the short blonde by her arm and shoving her back against the love seat.

He sneered, "Such a weakling little girl. Humph, can't imagine what Malfoy sees in you, you can't possibly be woman enough for a prefect."

Rather than being retaliating the smaller girl circled closer, resting her small palms on the larger boys chest she leaned close looking up at him through her lashes, "Isn't that what a girl's for? Making her man feel big and strong…" she patted his cheek enjoying his stunned expression, "Would you like to find out how much of woman I am?"

Then she turned her back on her helper and quirked a brow at Severus, who was watching her through narrowed eyes, this was a terrifying girl… how in the name of all hells could Lucius trust her?

"Now, what did I do?" Narcissa quizzed.

"You told him what he wanted to hear. You made him feel important. You…" he gestured meaningfully, no eleven year old, no matter how mature wanted to think about those things yet.

"Yes, very good. You have to learn how to read people, and what they want from you. It throws them of balance. That's what you want," the girl explained seating herself beside Severus once more, "Now, how SHOULD you have responded earlier?"

Severus thought for a minute, then he let a small concerned frown lay over his usually solemn features, "One day I'll be big… but I'm not now… now I'm small…" he looked across at the girl, his eyes big as saucers, "Cissy'll look out for me, won't she?"

Narcissa looked taken aback, her hand half extended almost as if to comfort him. He saw this and smirked victoriously.

She catching herself folded her arms across her chest and gave him a half-hearted glare, "You're a quick study."

Severus pushed his lip out in a half pout, "Is Cissy angry with me?" he inquired in a small voice.

She cuffed him lightly on the side of the head, laughing delightedly. Watching the girl's mirthful laughter, Severus could understand why she and Lucius were together… they both enjoyed cunning.

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He didn't try those things on Lily. She wasn't a Slytherin… she didn't need to be tricked into liking him. Lily was nice. It was nearly Christmas break, and as nervous as he was to go home, he was looking forward to giving Lily her present.

It wasn't much, but he hoped she would like it. He'd found a recipe for a luminescent potion. It had taken almost a month to beg, steal, or borrow the ingredients he needed, but Slughorn liked him, so it wasn't too hard. In honor of her Gryffindor status he'd found a way to make it glow a sort of gold shimmered red. He'd put this in a pretty crystal vial and secured the vial in a locket that could be closed to hide the light.

He'd horribly botched the wrapping job, a few bits of shiny silver paper showed past a lot of spell-o-tape, but not much. It was supposed to be a box, seeing as he'd been wrapping a box, but now it looked sorta round and fist sized. He didn't dare ask Narcissa for help… he didn't want anyone to know he'd given Lily Evans jewelry. He didn't _**like**_ her or anything. She was his friend.

But Lily liked pretty things.

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Leaving Hogwarts was harder than he thought it would be. At school, he was safe. At school he had friends who looked out for him… and he could more than look out for himself. At home… at home he was just a scared eleven year old, who couldn't even do magic.

When he stepped out of the platform and saw his father waiting for him. He almost turned around and ran back. Maybe someone would let him stay at Hogwarts for the holidays. Maybe—

Too late.

His Father had seen him. Hard brown eyes bored into his small body, and Severus had no choice but to walk to his side.

"Hello, sir," he murmured politely keeping his head down.

"Look me in the eye when you speak to me!" the elder Snape barked in a hard voice.

The boy's head snapped up, "Yes, sir, sorry, sir."

The elder, pleased with this instantaneous compliance, nodded severely, "Hmph, well, at least this cockamamie school is teaching you to respect your elders."

A snide retort leapt to his lips, but Severus swallowed in down nodding, in agreement. Looking up into his father's sneering face, it suddenly occurred to him what the man wanted to hear, "They've got to keep good discipline, sir, 'specially since when kids get into fights it's not fisticuffs."

His father was nodding, "Must be quite a job reforming you lot. Haven't gotten any notifications, have you been behaving yourself?"

"Yes, Sir, I've only gotten a detention once… I had to scrub out the whole trophy room with a toothbrush," Snape lied smoothly, wearing an expression of repentance.

"Ha, that'll teach you. Not all fun and games like you thought is it?"

"No, sir."

It's better Severus thought, so much better. I'm learning to be a real man, not like you. I'm learning to do things a stupid muggle like you couldn't dream of.

They were down by platform three now. They'd be taking a train back home. Lily had offered to give him a ride, her parents had a car… but no one had responded to the owl Severus had sent asking for permission… and he would stun his father before he ever let the man meet Lily. Snape still hadn't worked up the nerve to ask about mum. Fear gripped at him, would he have been notified if she were sick? Was that why his owls went unanswered?

They were boarding the train, Severus nearly running to keep pace with his father as he dragged his heavy case behind him, dearly wishing to cast a hovering charm.

The crowds were thick and jostled aside at the small boy trying to push into the train with the others. By the time he'd managed to board and stow his trunk, with the help of a lady who'd taken pity on his struggle with the large, beat-up leather case, his father had vanished in the crowds. It irked him to need the help, if he weren't surrounded by all these useless muggles, he wouldn't have had to struggle like a weakling.

It took him another five minutes to locate his father on the crowded train. When he finally did he seated himself quietly across from the elder man, remaining silent.

They sat in unwieldy silence, the elder studying his offspring with more care than he had taken in more than seven years. The lad was taller, more filled out, and had lost the air of sullen rebellion about him. It was the last development which pleased Tobias the most. Before, he could always feel those small, hateful black eyes on him, judging him, threatening him with the boy's strange evil powers. That sense of threat had evaporated… perhaps they really had managed to beat it out of the devil. He smirked to himself, and his wife had been so sure they'd treat the boy soft. Ha, in five months they'd managed what eleven years of beatings under his iron discipline hadn't, the boy knew his place. Not a peep, or shifty glare since he'd first appeared in the station.

Severus sensed his father's brutish satisfaction and mentally smirked. Narcissa was right. He'd have to thank her when the holidays were over.

The questions about his mother, his mum, the only one who was worth going home to this hell hole for, were stayed by the sole fact that his front of respectful submission was working. This was the point of joining Slytherin, if his father liked Hogwarts, liked him, he and mum wouldn't argue about it. Mum wouldn't get hurt then.

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A/N: Well… I thought this fic was finished. Then…. I dunno, this happened. Yeah…

So, please, please, please drop a review for me. This fic has been utterly silent and I'm beginning to wonder if it's any good at all. Seriously folks, it's just a few clicks to make this random author really, really happy. Seriously, reviews make every author's day like you wouldn't believe. Be kind, or not and post a review. Flame, praise, indifferent, let me know I'm not alone online!

Forever alone

Sorry folks… I have no idea what the above word explosion was…it's been a long day with lots of caffeine… and I feel lonely… maybe I'll get a cat…


	3. Chapter 3

Ch 3

"Mum?" Severus hated how his voice shook as he approached the low bed his mother rested on. She was thin, too thin, and her face grey with the fatigue of sitting up.

Looking at her, so small and weak looking beneath tatty, blue covers faded to grey with over washing Severus didn't even care that his father was in the room.

"Severus," the woman greeted in a hoarse whisper, her eyes lighting with joy at the sight of her son, "You're back from school. How is Hogwarts? Is everyone treating you well? Have you made friends?"

Severus swallowed hard against the aching knot in his throat his brow furrowing against the weakling tears that wanted to spring to his eyes at the way her voice shook, "Yes, mum, school's fine, mum. Did you get my letters? I was sorted into Slytherin. It's really good."

"No, I'm afraid I—" she broke into a deep wet cough that sounded terribly painful and Snape's eyes went wide as saucers in the sudden sharp realization his mother was dying of some stupid muggle illness. He'd seen the infirmary, there were things mediwitches could do, potions and spells that could help his mum.

Eileen Snape's skeletal white hand lay over her breast as she struggled to breath, "I haven't been up and about much at all since you left for school. This terrible cold's had me under the weather. Did I ever tell you, dear? I was a Slytherin when I was your age. I'm so proud of you. You'll do so well there."

"Are you alright, mum?" Severus asked softly, his little hand reaching out and touching his mother's pale hand lightly. She just looked so… frail, like old graying newspaper that would crumble to powder if he were too rough.

"Of course, of course, I'm fine, Severus. It's just a lingering cold, nothing for you to worry about." She patted the bed beside herself, "Come, sit with me and tell me everything about school."

Carefully, the boy sat beside the woman, who seemed smaller than when he had seen her last… as if she lacked substance, "School's great, mum. All the people are friendly. I met the Malfoy's son Lucius, and the Black sisters. "

His mum was nodding and smiling that awful wan smile that looked pained, "I remember their parents, good families," she said though what she meant was _'Good wizards, powerful witches… I was like them once.'_

"And school's great, mum," Severus was quick to interject eager to keep the bitter sadness from consuming her, "Slughorn, the po…" he became aware of his father's listening quite suddenly and amended his statement, "the head of my dormitory, has taken a shine to me. I'm only a first year too."

She nodded, "Horace's slug club, oh dear, he's still doing that? I was a part of his club, forever ago it seems."

A deep guffaw from the door brought the pair of slender, dark look alikes up short, as the eldest Snape sneered at them, "You shouldn't believe a word the little cretin tells you Eileen. The school you sent him to is downright militant. Look at your boy, barely four months there and he's practically reformed. Nary a glare or devil trick in sight."

Severus stared at his mother, begging her to understand as the familiar broken, wounded look crept over her momentarily cheerful features, "Are you lying to me, Severus?" she looked distraught, "Are people at school mean? Are you being picked on?"

"No, mum, no—" he hurried to assure her.

Again his father's harsh laugh rang out, making Severus cringe, "Of course they are, Eileen. Look at the boy. He's a scrawny little monkey, standing alone on the platform, not a single child in sight. He's standoffish, is what he is." the man smirked cruelly and drove the point home, "He's just trying to please his mummy, since you look fit to die any minute."

Severus kept his face turned away from his father, his breath was heaving in his chest, not with sobs, but pure, violent rage. How dare his father speak to him so? How dare he say such things to mum? HOW DARE HE—

Slowly, Severus rose to his feet and turned to face his father, who was too busy watching the emotional havoc he had wreaked on his wife to notice the seemingly innocuous piece of wood that had appeared in his son's hand.

Mum, however was not so blind, "No Severus!" she shouted suddenly, perceiving the terrifying fury running flowing like cold acid through her son's small body.

"Sorry, mum," Severus murmured, not looking back at her, "He deserves it," the boy hissed with more venom than a child should be able to express.

Tobias Snape stared at the child looking at him with black hateful eyes, pointing a flimsy piece of wood in his direction, "Ha! There! I knew you were still a little devil. What're you going to do? Poke me with your stick?"

"SEVERUS SNAPE!" his mother snapped in a voice that held more life than her family had heard from her in years, "Give. Me. Your. Wand." She ordered in a hard voice extending her hand imperiously.

Severus was frozen. He didn't know what to do. It would be so easy to do it. Stun his father, hell, kill him if he wanted… and oh, he wanted to…

But he had never disobeyed him mum. Not when she sounded like that.

His upraised hand shook.

"Severus!" his mother shouted.

Slowly, the boy turned laying his wand in his mother's hand.

The woman glared angrily at him, but the boy could see the fear in the lines of her face, more lines than any thirty year old had right to, "You will never use this in my house again. Never! Do you understand me? Underage is bad enough, but against your own father? They'll expel you for that, Severus. Expelled. Do you hear me? Promise me. Promise me, you will not even think about it. Promise."

Black eyes too similar too his own cut into him like daggers, and Severus perceived the folly of his actions, "I'm sorry, mum," he whispered, "I promise."

Then Eileen Snape turned to her husband and showed her son what a true Slytherin was capable of, "Don't bother yourself, Tobias. It's a stupid game the children play. The 'wand' shoots colored sparks that blacken the other player's face. It's called Exploding Snap. Heaven only knows why the boy brought one of these trinkets home."

Tobias's face was dark as a thunder cloud and when he removed his belt, Severus didn't even bother arguing with the beating. Wordlessly, he went to remove his pants. He struggled not to cringe when his father shook his head. Instead the boy just pulled off his shirt and bent down over the edge of the bed.

He was so stupid.

Thwack

Such a failure.

Crack

How could he be such a fool?

Thump

Only somebody truly useless ingrate would manage to break his mum's heart and nearly get himself expelled from the best thing that had happened to him since Lily.

Thwack

Thwack

Thwack

The heavy leather strap fell in rapid succession across his shoulders and ribs. He yelped once when the metal buckle caught the soft skin at the nape of his neck.

Crack

He prayed his father didn't decide to snap his 'trinket'. He didn't know if magic could repair wands. What if they couldn't afford to get him a new one?

Smack

Thack

Crack

It would serve him right. So stupid!

Thwack

Severus was crying now, trying very hard to keep silent as the heavy blows fell over the burning skin of his back. He didn't think he was bleeding… though where the buckle kept landing he wasn't so sure.

* * *

><p>Severus spent most of the rest of winter break, while his father was home, in hiding. It was awful. The fights were worse than ever. His father taunting mum with what Severus had told him about Hogwarts, his mother crying sometimes when the depression was bad enough that she believed it, shouting back when she was feeling strong enough to argue.<p>

And it was all. His. Fault. If he hadn't been so stupid as to try that on his father. If he hadn't been so hot headed as to try to attack him.

Worse than the fighting was his mum's awful cough. It just got deeper and wetter, crackling painfully in her lungs as the days until Christmas marched slowly on. She got progressively weaker, eating next to nothing… it was clear the day he had come home she had been doing particularly well.

How Severus wished he were at Hogwarts. There he could get mum help. He could bring her to the nurse… or…or go to the library and find a spell that would whisk her horrible sickness away at a word, or he could go to Lucius, surely the older boy would know what to do, and if he didn't he might ask Slughorn for the answer, say it was a private project or some such thing.

But he wasn't… he was stuck here, in stupid, muggle Cokeworth. He didn't have a way to contact anyone to help him…

Severus bolted upright in bed.

Lily

Lily had an owl. Lily had a way to contact help. Lily was currently asleep in her own bed.

Didn't matter.

Silently, Severus crept from his bed, tiptoeing on light feet down the stairs. The only sounds in the dark house were his mother's thick, painful coughs. The door was easily enough unlocked. He patted his pocket feeling assured by the presence of his wand. Mum had returned it two days after… his temper tantrum, exacting another promise of good behavior.

Then she'd patted him on the head and said the saddest thing Severus could remember hearing her say, "The worst feeling in the world is for a wizard to be without his wand."

Then she'd handed over his wand, almost as if she didn't want to let it leave her possession. Severus couldn't imagine having to snap his wand to live with dirty, stinking muggles. He was aware suddenly, that his mum's mental instability and now depression… had probably been brought on by her sudden isolation from magic.

The night was very dark and quite chill, but Severus knew his way about with his eyes closed, and with his wand he wasn't terribly concerned about the dangers that might have faced a boy of eleven… nearly twelve wandering in this rather unsavory section of town at this time of night.

Despite the assurance of a ready stunner he felt immeasurably better when he entered the richer part of town where the Evans house was. After what seemed like ages he found her home, with its nice picket fence and dormant garden. On careful feet he crept through their gate praying it wouldn't be a squeaky one. Luck was with him and he made it all the way to just below her second floor bedroom with little more noise than shifting gravel on the drive. He had a bit of difficulty on a patch of ice near the gutter, but aside from this near disaster, he was relatively sneaky.

A handful of gravel and he was well armed to gain the attention of his friend.

Plink

Missed

Thunk

Closer this time, but still missed

Clack

Success!

Clack

Clack

Clack

He shifted nervously beneath the window. How deeply did Lily sleep? What if this wasn't her room? What if he was beneath the wrong window? Panic gripped him when suddenly a small light far above came on, faintly gold red, and he smiled with relief as the window opened a crack.

"Severus?" was whispered incredulously through the window, which upon his wave was quickly shoved fully open, "Sev, what are you doing here? It's cold out! Are you even in a coat?"

He shrugged, "Not important, Lils, can I use your owl? I need to send a letter. "

"Sev, it's the middle of the night. Who could you possibly need to contact? Can't it wait till morning? We'll get in trouble if my parents wake up," the girl whispered.

"Sorry, Lil, it's really important, mum's sick. I need to contact…" the boy trailed off, he had not thought this far ahead.

Realistically, he couldn't contact Lucius. Yes they were friends… of a sort, but to show the wealthy and pureblooded Malfoy his home would be to kiss his chances at further association with the boy goodbye. So Slughorn… but the teacher wasn't exactly the type to instill trust in his healing abilities… he was too… capricious. That left… the headmaster. Was he desperate enough? Hell he'd just walked a mile in the dark with temperatures just a hair on shy of frostbitten toes, he'd contact whomever he had to contact.

"Can't you, you know… call the hospital?"

"Mum won't go, and she's already so bad… I don't think muggle stuff would work. Please Lil? It'll only take a minute."

Sensing his desperation lily acquiesced, "Alright, Sev, if it's that bad. Just try to keep quiet, please."

She then ducked back inside and Severus began studying the problem of entering her window. Toeing off his shoes he ignored the chill that crept up from the ground into his feet. He hopped with little enough noise up onto the sill of a first story window. This put him in reach of one of those flag holder things jutting from the side of the house. Gripping the icy metal with numb fingers he scrabbled sock clad feet up the clean cream brick of her home until one foot was wedged on the small flag hook his arms braced wide against the chilly brickwork.

"Lils?" he trembled hard against the wall, his perch precarious.

"Hold on, Sev, I'll drop you a sheet in a sec—"

Severus waited tensely hardly daring to breathe for fear of tumbling down and waking the household. He gasped audibly in relief with the warm fabric tumbled out of the window falling straight down over his head.

"Thanks, Lil,"

She snorted, watching him clamber up her makeshift rope, "It's a good thing you're light, else you'd drag my bed clear across the room. As it is it was scooting closer to the window," Immediately upon entering her room he had a blanket shoved into his arms, "You wrap up. You look frozen. I can hear your teeth chattering."

Obediently, he wrapped her blankets around his shoulders glancing about her room as she hunted up parchment and a quill, placing these on her desk. Opening the locket he had given her she grinned at him and set it on beside the parchment as a light source.

"Who knew we'd need it so soon," she joked hovering uncertainly between him and the door.

Severus grinned briefly at her before he slid into the seat and set about his letter.

…

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore,

My mum I am currently faced with a pressing problem. My Mother, Eileen Snape, previously Prince. Has fallen ill with a wet, lingering cough for over three months now, and has grown very thin. She is grey in the face and barely eats or sleeps- the coughing keeps her up. I had not been aware how grave the situation had become until I returned home for the holidays.

I humbly request some form of help for my mother, as her illness seems to have advanced well beyond muggle means of healing. I can only hope you know of some way she can be helped magically, and would be greatly indebted to you if you would come to our aid.

I know that you are probably not the most fitting person to contact, but as I can think of no one else, and the issue has become quite life threatening, I can't convey the severity of the illness well enough, sir, I have no other choice but to hope you will at the least be able to direct me to the correct authorities.

Sincerely,

Severus Snape

…

Just as he put the finishing touches on his letter both he and Lily heard a step on the stairs.

* * *

><p>Well… Congratulations dear readers, I have wonderful news!<p>

I'm pregnant!

Oh, wait…wot? Sorry, I mean… "This story has come to fruition and has achieved the potential of a full fic."

My muse's plot bunny farm has been blessed with a new pregnancy of… inspiration, and baby plunnies which I will gleefully chase down rabbit holes.

As you can see above^^

What was originally intended to be a one-shot now be a complete story approximately 7-10 chapters in length. I am quite distracted from the stories I'm supposed to be working on. In fact… this is actually a pre-pre-prequel to a HP story I'm currently 30 chapters in on (I usually don't post work until it's fully complete).

P.S.- please drop me a line, a review, a pm, an email, a text, smoke signals, my mind is a dark and twisted place where my muse can become lost for weeks if I'm not recalled to the land of... well this is a sort of reality is it not?

P.P.S- I love you all, my darling readers, thank you for reading.

P.P.P.S.- I had alot of coffee today. Excuse the hyper effusion of words.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch 4

Both were frozen for an instant before they burst into a silent flurry of motion. Severus hopped up from the chair and darted under her bed while Lily plopped down into the blanket covered chair he had abandoned. Quickly, she wrapped the bright red covers around her waist and picked up the quill he had abandoned.

Slowly, in the way parents who are unsure of their child's wakefulness do, the door eased open.

Lily turned around and smiled nervously, her face illuminated by the cheery glow of the locket, "Hi, Da," she squeaked, praying it sounded like the usual 'up past bed time' squeak, and not an 'a boy is hiding under my bed' nervous squeak.

Apparently something was off about her squeak, usually he passed with a "Time for sleep Lily," and left it at that.

Mr. Evans stepped fully into the room, "Lily, why on earth are you up—" he glanced at his watch, "at two in the morning? I thought you were a cat burglar or something," he joked flicking on the light.

The girl smiled guiltily, blinking in the suddenly too bright light, "Sorry, da… I uh… just had this idea and I wanted to write it down before I forgot."

Her father seeing the new piece of jewelry on the desk walked over and scooped it up, "This is a nifty little thing, when did you get it?"

Blushing brilliantly red, with nerves rather than the embarrassment her da suspected, she squeaked out, "Severus made it for me. A Christmas gift."

"Well, that boy is very clever, this is quite a nice trinket…" Mr. Evans trailed off having noticed that the writing under his daughter's quill was not his daughter's handwriting, "Lily… why do you have a letter signed Severus Snape?"

"Oh… well, we thought it'd be fun to exchange letters over the holidays, with Wingardia…So, so ah, this is his… I was trying to compose a reply. The thing is I have to get it out now, before morning, cuz we'll probably meet at the park and if we do it will totally mess up the whole point of this letter thing," she finished in a rush, watching his face hopefully for some sign of belief.

"I see—" her father drawled, "Then why pray tell is this letter addressed the Headmaster of Hogwarts rather than my dear friend Lily?"

"Umm… you see, da…"

Severus didn't want Lily to get in trouble, and it was clear she was going to suggest they were using pen names… a useless endeavor if her father's tone was anything to judge by.

Soundlessly he slid out from under her bed, standing he ignored Lily's wide green eyes shooting the silent 'Nonononono! ' message at him.

Taking a deep breath he said, "Because I wasn't writing a letter to your daughter, sir."

The man whipped around, managing to control his shock quickly at the sight of the small, ragged looking boy, standing barefoot in his home.

"Severus, it's two in the morning. What are you doing in my house? Do your parents have the faintest ideas you're not in bed right now?"

The boy shifted uneasily, "Sorry, sir. It was an emergency. I needed to borrow Wingardia. No, it couldn't wait and I'm very, very sorry for sneaking into your home."

"So this isn't some harebrained scheme to run away? You just walked a mile across town… barefoot? To send a letter?" Mr. Evans demanded incredulously.

"No, sir, I wouldn't run here, sir, no offense. That'd get Lily in trouble. I just really, really needed to send a letter, an my shoes are outside your window, sir. I was trying to keep quiet."

"Whatever about, Severus?"

Severus sealed his lips. He'd sound like the boy who cried wolf spouting off some outlandish story about his mum dying. At best he'd get cuffed for lying to the man's face, at worst Mr. Evans'd believe him and a whole bevy of useless muggle doctors would descend on his house, so even if the headmaster did help him they wouldn't be able to cast the spell or something, cuz of all the stupid muggles…and… and…

Tears began to prickle at Severus's eyes and he wiped his fist across his face angrily staring silently at his sock clad feet poking awkwardly out from under the cuffs of pants just a hair too short.

"What was so important you had to climb through my daughter's second floor window in the dark to write about it, Severus?"

It was Lily who broke under interrogation first, and for about half an instant Severus was violently angry with her. Didn't she understand? His mum would die for sure now. Better he got in trouble now, than the truth come out.

"Don't be angry da! Sev's mum's real sick, like dying sick. We thought… we thought maybe magic could help." She quavered in a small voice.

"Is that true?" her father demanded of the suddenly sullen boy before him.

Slowly, Severus nodded, then his internal panic overwhelmed ingrained stoicism and the words just started to spill out, "Please don't tell anyone, sir. That'll just make it worse. If there's a bunch of doctors around, then I won't be able to help mum. An… an… an she'll just cough herself to death. And nothing's working, cuz she's been like this for months since I left for school, and nobody told me. She just won't do anything, won't even try to get better, she's just so depressed. I just had to ask if the headmaster knew any way to help her I just had to—"

He was crying now and wiping viciously at the tears embarrassed to be crying in front of Mr. Evans, a grown man, and in front of Lily, but too tired, and scared, and worried to stop.

A big, heavy hand settled on his shoulder and he cringed, surprised when Mr. Evans just patted him on the back, "It'll be alright, son. You send off your letter, and I promise I won't whisper a word about it until you know if the headmaster can help you. Alright? It's going to be ok, now."

Severus nodded dumbly, unable to speak past the lump in his throat even if he'd know what to say. He felt Lily drop the blanket back around his shoulders; her warm little hand squeezing his.

Turning away from the pair, Mr. Evans picked up the letter, scanning the neat, but still childishly cramped and jagged handwriting. He was surprised by the articulation of the boy's letter, apparently the terror of his discovery had scared his silver tongue right out of him.

"Severus, it sounds like your mother has pneumonia or bronchitis. Would you like me to add that to your letter?" the big, ginger haired man asked gently.

Big, dark eyes, as wide as saucers and glittering with tears looked up at him a long moment before the boy nodded.

Picking up the quill the older man made a quickly aborted attempt to write with a quill before pulling open a drawer and pulling out a normal pencil. Bending at the waist he wrote:

…

P.S.—This is Mr. Richard Evans, Lily Evans father, Severus is sending this letter via Lily's owl, and I assure you he is quite serious in his plea. From his description I would guess with some certainty his mother is suffering from severe pneumonia or bronchitis exacerbated due to the fact she has delayed treatment to this late date. You should know that if you do not respond in some way to the boy within the next two days, I will be contacting non-magical health services to see to her as best we are able.

…

"There you are," he announced holding his addendum up before the boy, just beginning control his tears, "Is that acceptable?"

Severus nodded, "Thank you, Sir," he mumbled, his throat thick with tears.

He watched silently as the precious letter was folded and sealed by Lily, who had more experience with these things, while Mr. Evans went to fetch their owl from her stand in the garage, it was the only window they could leave open in the bitterly cold weather. Lily handed the missive to the severe looking scops owl that had been prodded unhappily awake and let them all know it with a few low, peeved sounding hoots. She had been fancifully named after the first spell Lily had executed to great success in the charms room, and Wingardia did seem to fly with a floating quality that seemed to defy a rational understanding of physics, so it was fitting.

"Wingardia? I need you to take this to Professor Albus Dumbledore, as fast as possible. It's an emergency. I want you to wait for him to send a reply back. I want that reply to go to Severus. Have you got that?"

The dappled brown creature ruffled her feathers, giving a piqued hoot, as if to convey she was no spring chicken when it came to letter carrying, before reaching out wicked talons for the hemp cord cradled letter.

As the feathered creature sprang from the window Severus realized he had never felt so relieved. Then realizing his reprieve from punishment was probably over he turned to face Mr. Evans, "Forgive me for imposing, Sir, I'll just be going now, afore mum starts to worry."

"I think not young man. I'll drive you home," Lily's father insisted catching the fleeing boy by the back of the shirt.

Severus's eyes went wide with fear and the older man was quick to assure him, "Whoa there, son, I can't let you go wandering across town, without a coat, very well can I?"

"I'll be ok, sir," Severus piped up, only to be ignored.

"Say goodnight, Lily," Mr. Evan's instructed as he steered Severus out of the room.

"G'night Sev!" she murmured squeezing his hand as he was maneuvered out of her room, "I hope you're mum'll be alright."

He made a noncommittal noise. Mum might be alright, but he most definitely would not be if Mr. Evans spoke with his father upon returning him. He remained dumb with panic as the larger man draped a too big coat over his shoulders and pulling a tan trench around himself before he jammed a pair of brown loafers on his feet and grabbed car keys from the bowl by the door.

"Wait here," he instructed heading out.

Severus glanced around nervously. Miraculously, it seemed as though he, Lily, and Mr. Evans had not woken the household.

Several long minutes later the door swung open letting in a blast of cold air shocking Severus out of the weary half dose he'd been slipping into. The big man with his daughter's hair smiled down at the boy struggling grimly to stay awake and handed him a pair of much worn, brown leather shoes, he'd found beneath his daughter's window.

"C'mon, son, you've done good. I'll get you home."

Severus nodded swallowing down rippling unease. With ease born of long practice he shuffled his shoes on and trotted after Mr. Evans.

He approached the shiny, dark blue LC range, nervously. Opening the door gingerly and sliding into the chilly leather seat Severus stared forward hard.

The car rumbled to life and Mr. Evan's flicked on his headlights backing slowly out of the drive.

"Remind me where exactly, Severus?"

"Spinner's End," he mumbled, burying his hands beneath his arms in an attempt to hold in heat. He was suddenly glad of the too big coat.

* * *

><p>As the car crept slowly down his dark street, Severus looked over at the driver's seat for the first time, "Sir? Can you drop me off here? If my father catches me he'll have my hide."<p>

Mr. Evans studied the child in his car. The boy was slight, looking even smaller for the massive coat he wore, "Which house are you?"

The boy pointed at one of the indistinguishable degenerating brick buildings, it was two-story, narrow and seemed to be leaning slightly askance against the city bright sky. A small corner of the brick work was illuminated by a lonely bleak lamp. It that might have been any color when the home was built had been tinted a uniform dingy grey by the smoke and dust that puffed continually from the factory stacks not a stone's throw beyond the dilapidated neighborhood. The yard, almost too small to be called such, was mostly concealed by a scraggly looking, leafless hedge; bare, thorny branches seeming to scrabble at the dirty sky. "I'll just wait here, to make sure you get inside ok. Is that acceptable?"

The right side of boy's pale face was illuminated by the lights on his dash and Mr. Evans watched suddenly solemn, appraising eyes judge him at a glance, he felt as though he has passed some test in the boy's eyes… and also that he had been expected to fail.

The child extended his hand in a disturbingly adult gesture, "Thank you, sir, for your help. My mother and I are in your debt," Severus stated solemnly, his small hand gripping Mr. Evans' large calloused palm firmly.

"You're most welcome, Severus," he responded automatically.

The boy nodded and slid out of his car, leaving the borrowed jacket neatly folded on the seat. As he watched the small form scurry furtively across the street, thin form hunched against the chill wind, nimbly hopping over what is no doubt an abominably squeaky, grey weathered gate, the boy who had tonight been the head of his household, was once more reduced to a vulnerable child in Mr. Evan's mind.

Shaking his head, Mr. Evans drove slowly home. He had known the boy did not have the most ideal home life, but had not suspected it was so bad as that. Jesus, what business did a boy of eleven have getting help for his mother's depression? His own eleven year old probably didn't even know what that was. Was it so bad, that the boy no longer named his own father a part of the family?

* * *

><p>So sorry about the late update, finals sorta snuck up on me and stole my life. Drop a review if you're inclined.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

Ch 5

Morning couldn't come soon enough. Despite the cold, and the fact he knew it would take a minimum of three hours to get a reply, on the one in a hundred chance Dumbledore received the letter as soon as Wingardia arrived and penned a reply right then, he spent the first five minutes back in his own home trying to open his window without waking anyone.

A silent trip down to the kitchen yielded enough stove grease to do the job and he propped the window up with a book.

Then he plopped onto the bed wrapped his musty woolens around his shoulders and waited.

He'd stay awake all night if he had to. He didn't want to miss Wingardia. If the answer was no, he'd need to send off a few more letters.

* * *

><p>Severus startled awake when a warm feather body landed on his bed. It was very dark. Staring disoriented about himself he could make out Wingardia's silhouette on the edge of the bed. Her tufted head was tilted quizzically.<p>

Reaching up he fumbled for the fraying string that would light the single dirty bulb in the center of his small room. When it came on the nocturnal creature gave an irritated hoot, its head bobbing up and down in annoyance.

"Sorry, Wingardia, I can't see like you," Severus whispered, struggling to control his desire to grab at the creature.

She was a persnickety thing. If she became irritated she might very well fly away without giving him his letter. This seemed to appease her and the little queen fluffed her sleek chestnut feathers once before settling them. Satisfied, she had extended her leg in front of herself, so he could see where the small strip of parchment had been tied, with a length of twine.

Struggling not to rush and startle the large bird he gently removed the parchment.

…

I will be arriving with a competent mediwitch as soon as possible. Dawn, if Madame Pomfrey can gather the necessaries that quickly. Should your mother need more care than we can provide I will personally see her transferred to St. Mungo's.

Albus Dumbledore

…

Severus's hands shook with relief. He smiled blindingly at his only companion. The scops owl hooted at him wondering if there was a reply the boy wanted taken back to her mistress.

"Oh, sorry, Wing, you're probably really tired. If you'd just take this to Lily to let her know everything's going to be ok," he rattled off as he scratched out a quick note on a scrap of paper, using the same twine to attach it to Wingardia's leg. Digging in his pockets he offered the owl a crust of bread in thanks, which the bird took daintily, in two neat snaps of her razor sharp beak.

Then he scurried downstairs. It was almost dawn. He had to find a way to get his father out of the house. It was the three days before Christmas. He was off work. He never left for the pub before noon.

As he thought, Severus set a kettle on. Preparing his mother's usual morning tea and toast with jam. He knew she was up. The coughing kept her awake. Mum would not be pleased with him if he did not at least warn her before visitors came.

Pouring the tea into a faded pink mug, he dug in the cold box for the milk…they were almost out. A cube of sugar was dropped in, plashing a spot of milky earl gray onto the counter, which Severus wiped with his sleeve. The toast went on a plate and he gingerly picked up the mug, walking carefully to his parent's bedroom.

He didn't fear to wake his father. The man was still hung-over and would not stir till nine at least… if the only noise was that of Severus and Eileen. As he suspected his mum was lying on her side, wheezing weakly, her eyes wide and glassy.

"Mum?" he whispered, setting the plate on the floor, "How'd you get on your side? You should have called me. I know it's harder for you to breath."

Bending over he piled up a few pillows against the headboard before lifting his mother up from her side. She smiled weakly at her son, motioning for the tea. Her throat was too dry to speak. He brought her the mug, setting the plate in her lap.

"What's got you up so early?" she forced out, her voice gone mostly to the cough. She sipped again at the tea.

"Some people are coming. They say they're going to help you."

Eileen Snape lowered the mug from her lips staring at her son, "What?"

Severus shrank back from his mother's indignant rage, even now she was too proud to beg for help, "Sorry, Mum… I had to. I'll help you get ready."

It was a bad day, she only glared at him a moment… then her eyes went glassy and she had slipped back into listlessness. With gentle patience Severus wrapped his mother's hand around her mug partially lifting it until she got the idea and began to eat robotically.

While she nibbled at her breakfast, Severus walked to the washroom and wet a washcloth shoving a comb in his pocket. When he returned to the bedroom, his mother had stopped eating and was simply crumbling her remaining slice of toast into a fine powder on her plate. Firmly he removed the plate from her and wiped her jam and crumb covered fingers with the corner of the cloth. When he handed the cloth to her she obediently washed her face and Severus gingerly unraveled the lumpy braid he had worked into her hair the night before.

Guilt gnawed at him. He was taking such poor care of his mum… what would they think?

Carefully, he combed her grey streaked black hair smooth, hating how brittle and dry it felt, long strands combing out into his hands. Again he made an attempt at a braid. It was awful. The best that could possibly be said was that it was centered. Then inspiration struck. Teachers wore their hair in knots at the base of their neck, why couldn't his mum?

It took several attempts but eventually he managed to wind his mum's awkward braid into a neat-ish bun. Unsure of his next move he hunted a moment, one handed, in his pockets. He came up with a bit of twine…

It worked alright… you mostly couldn't see the string.

Now was the hard part.

"Mum?" he whispered aware of the sleeping behemoth beside them, "Do you want to change your frock?"

Her eyes focused on him for a moment and she attempted to smile, "Yes, dear, thank you for helping your mum."

Going to her closet he found a loose, but still nice green frock, laying it on the bed.

For the moment her eyes were still focused and she had lowered her legs off the side of the bed. She gave him a wobbly smile, croaking, "Could you help me?"

Dumbly, he nodded swallowing back the knot in his throat wrapping his slender arms around his mother's chest, just below her arms bodily lifting her upright. It was fortunate she was becoming so frail else he would not have had a hope of moving her.

Once she was standing he held her upright while she unbuttoned her nightgown, letting it fall to the floor before her son helped her don the green day dress. Then he lowered her back down to the bed.

How on earth had she cared for herself while he was away? When he had come she could hardly hobble to the washroom alone, and now, in only two weeks she couldn't rise from bed.

His mum began to hack then, struggling to smother the sound in the handkerchief Severus quickly proffered.

His father rolled over and they both froze, but he only murmured uneasily and slumbered on.

* * *

><p>He had to stoop slightly to approach the narrow door, it was the same soot stained gray-black as the rest of the house, though there was evidence of peeling paint beneath the grime that might have once been white. Loudly, he knocked, it was not yet dawn, and he doubted anyone was awake.<p>

He could hear Madame Pomfrey shifting nervously behind him in the square of dirt and gravel that was the yard.

He raised his hand to knock again, just as the door opened a crack and a small, pale face peered out. From somewhere within the home they could all hear audible coughing.

"Mr. Snape, may we come in?" the tall wizard inquired, stepping aside to reveal the slight witch behind him.

The boy shifted uneasily, his voice a low murmur, "Of course, headmaster, sir. I should warn you thoug –"

Suddenly, the boy was yanked backward, out of sight and the door thrown fully open, a tall, slope shoulder man blocking the threshold. The man glowered out at the two wizards through narrowed, bloodshot, hazel eyes, "God's eye, what in the hells do you freaks want? Get offa my property. Off with you! God, can't a man sleep?"

Then just as abruptly the door was slammed in his face. Dumbledore was needless to say shocked and could hear the boy's low urgent voice arguing with the elder Snape's incensed growl, though he could make out no words.

He turned to look at Poppy who had skittered back a few steps, her eyes wide, "Erm… well, Albus…what now?"

"I have no—"

A dull thud echoed from inside the home and Albus was stunned when Poppy frowned and marched right past him muttering alohomora as she entered the Snape home. With no choice now but to look after his colleague Dumbledore followed her in, taking in the state of things at a glance.

The eldest Snape was out cold on the floor, but as evidenced from Poppy's drawn wand, he might not have gotten there on his own. Severus, showing a surprising lack of concern for his father, was already tugging at her sleeve trying to bodily pull her with him into the back room.

* * *

><p>Finally got this stupid thing fully written, sorry for the delay, a europe trip had less internet acess than I expected.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Ch 6

Ducking so as to retain his hat through the low lintel Dumbledore slowly approached the bed of a woman who he had last seen at a young and vital eighteen. Her son was perched beside her on the bed, clasping her hand in his speaking to her in a low, private murmur. She did not even turn her head to acknowledge the boy.

Poppy quickly cast a few diagnostic spells shooting rapid questions at the boy.

"Does her throat hurt?"

"Yes."

"What do you give her for it?"

"Erm…tea?"

Poppy's eyes flicked up to meet the boys and she nodded, "That's alright, the liquid was good for her," she assured, "Her voice?"

"Gone mostly, kinda scratchy and squeaky, raw."

"Does she ever run a high fever?"

The boy shrugged helplessly, "She has the sweats sometimes, and feels a little warmer than usual."

"I see…"

"Headache?"

"Not that she's mentioned."

"Does it hurt her to cough or breathe deeply?"

"Yes, she has a harder time breathing on her side too."

"Is she usually like this?" She gestured at the catatonic woman on the bed.

"It's a bad day. I unsettled her routine this morning. She's unhappy you're seeing her like this."

"What can she accomplish on her own?"

"She's getting worse. When I was first home for the holidays she could still walk around a little, made her winded. Now I have to help her. If I put food on her lap she eats a little. She'll drink tea," the boy added, having given up on rousing his mother to their presence.

Slowly he stood from the bed, "Can you do anything, for her?" his small voice wavered.

Poppy's nut brown head came up in an instant from her patient and she smiled at the boy, "I can whip away that nasty cough in a jiffy. I just want to be sure nothing else is wrong."

The boy nodded slowly and backed up a little to give the witch room to work.

Albus walked up and placed a hand on the boy's bony shoulder, patting his back gently when he started violently, "Why don't you get your mother something to drink?"

The boy stared up at him with narrowed eyes... almost hostile, and Albus removed his hand quickly. Slowly the boy nodded and retreated from the small room.

"Albus," Poppy hissed.

He walked up beside her looking down at the dying woman on the bed, "Yes,"

"What in Merlin's name is going on here? Look, look at her. It's depression, that's why she won't acknowledge us. Probably why she let it get this bad. Hmph, her oaf of a husband certainly wasn't making sure she took care of herself. Look at this! String! My word, that poor boy has been trying to take care of his mother, but really Albus, he's eleven. It's not his job. He barely knows what to do. It's a miracle she's still alive really, how many eleven year olds can keep themselves fed, much less someone who doesn't want to eat."

Poppy busied herself with her bag pulling out several potions, she growled in frustration, "Look at the boy, Albus! Only a two weeks away from the school and he's practically as thin as his mother, bags under his eyes, jumping at shadows."

Before he could respond the boy in question reappeared. Albus studied him. He did move in a rather ginger, furtive manner for a child in his own home. The boy was taking better care of his mother than himself. His face was dirty, and hair a little wild, his clothes were obviously well worn, and too thin for how chill the home was.

"What are you giving my mum?" he asked looking curiously at the flasks Poppy had removed.

Instantly the experienced mediwitch focused on her other patient, "Something for the cough, a nutritive brew, a draught that might shake her depression, and a strengthening solution. Now, you tell me she drinks on her own? How can I get her to do that? Here let's see if we can get her fully conscious," she extended one of the flasks to the boy.

He took it and approached his mother. Gently, he took her hand and wrapped it firmly around the container, lifting her hand and the flask slightly.

"Mum, you need to drink this. It'll make you feel better."

He repeated the lifting motion several times until her black eyes flickered to his face briefly and she began to sip obediently.

He looked to the adults who were watching him oddly, "See, you just have to be patient. She'll usually figure it out…don't know if she'll finish though."

That question was answered for them when Eileen Snape spoke for the first time, "Severus, could you please give us a moment," her dark eyes had lost the glazed look and scanned her visitors, her expression chill.

He turned around so quickly he almost fell, "Mum!" his whole face lit up, bending he pecked her cheek, grinning despite her stern look, "Going mum, sorry mum," he trotted out of the room a small smile on his lips.

"Dumble—"

"Tut, tut, Mrs. Snape, finish your potions. Once I'm sure you won't die on me you may speak," Poppy insisted pushing another glass into her hands.

"No! That's the point…"

Poppy's face grew ominous, "Please do not tell me you've let yourself go this far on purpose. It's just the depression talking."

Eileen glared right back, "Don't you see? It's coming back to this hell hole that's holding my Severus back. If I'm not here he won't come back to this place. His place isn't in the muggle world. He's going to become twice the wizard I ever was. He'll do the name of Prince proud, heaven help me if he makes the same idiotic mistake as me and marries a muggle."

"Eileen! Listen to yourself, it's the sickness talking. You think loosing the mother he loves is going to help your son? He'll be utterly alone in the world, trapped with the man you and he both hate as a guardian for six more years," Dumbledore stared down at the worn woman on the bed who at his sharp words deflated slightly.

"Yes… well… the depression… it makes it hard, I should make arrangements for him, yes. I need to talk to a wizard in law."

"And what, take the boy from his father?"

Eileen snorted, obediently drinking the potion Poppy kept pushing at her, "You know as well as I that under wizarding law Tobias has as much right to his son as the family dog. He's just a muggle. If I sign off on it anyone of wizarding heritage can act as his legal guardian in my absence."

"And how would your son cope with losing his mother and being taken from the only home he knows?"

Eileen waved her hand dismissively, "He's strong, a true Slytherin. He'll understand I'm protecting him. He understands, now. He doesn't even want to go back to school. He thinks he needs to be here to care for me. Don't you see? I'm holding him back."

Albus waved a hand causing three plush purple chairs to appear with soft 'pops'. He sat, though Poppy continued to bustle about between him and her patient muttering healing spells and handing her potions.

"Have you contacted your family? Why do you remain in this situation?"

The woman gave him an imperious look, she was far stronger now for Poppy's aid, "I have my pride, and the Prince family has theirs. I have been disowned. I would never impinge on their honor or mine by begging to be taken back."

Dumbledore shook his head, "You can't really still mean to kill yourself?"

She laughed, "Stop, just stop right there. You will not manipulate me or convince me of anything. I've ruined my lungs with this, I know it. What have I got? Six months? A year at most?"

Poppy grimaced at her patient's harsh attitude, "It's not so bad as that, you have perhaps two years, I'm truly sorry… You left it untreated for so long, your body is so very weak… I'll do what I can—"

Eileen smiled, and it was a pleasant smile, "Don't bother yourself. You've done more than enough, and if you'll get me a man to write up the necessaries you will have truly done some good for my son."

"Who then will you sign the boy to?" Dumbledore asked at last.

Her brow furrowed, "I need to contact Headmaster Dippit… he was close with my family. He'll find someone for Severus. They needn't truly adopt Severus. Just sign papers when the school needs it… Severus can stay at Hogwarts most breaks."

"What about summers? Your boy will still be here."

Her face fell slightly, but then her expression hardened, "He only ever gets into trouble over me. He's very protective, and the temper on that boy… He'll be fine. He just needs someone who understands the wizarding world," Her dark eyes held pure steel.

Albus was forced to bow to her will, "I will bring in a man. Might I suggest the Birchard family?"

Eileen thought a moment, "Marcus Birchard? No, I think not. Could he simply become a ward of the school? His head of house, Slughorn? Yes, he'll do fine to be his acting guardian. He's a very self-sufficient child. He can take care of himself."

"Are you sure you want to do this, Eileen? Deprive him of his father, his home? A chance to have a real mentor? Does the boy have godparents?"

Eileen looked away at nothing in particular, "I had intended to ask my family… but no, his godfather is a muggle, useless to my son. I've not been the best mother to him; times I could barely get out of bed much less raise a child… but he's grown up stronger for it. I raised him until he was free of this place. He doesn't really need me or anyone else, he only thinks he does. He's a sweet child, good to me," her eyes, like twin caverns that seemed to swallow all the light in the room focused on Dumbledore's face, "Please send someone to draw up the papers, and soon, I don't want Tobias riling up anyone else."

Poppy frowned tutting, "I don't like leaving a patient in a place like this. That man has a mean streak a mile wide. You needn't worry. He'll be out all day taking a stunner at such close range."

"We know how to deal with him. Go now, bring me my son. I thank you for coming, for his sake and mine… I needed to be reminded of the necessaries. I will prepare him," the bedridden woman had been restored some of her former imperial nature and they found themselves bowing to her will.

It was unnatural, so small, so weak, but she had a presence, and a steel in her black eyes spoke of a powerful witch. Poppy left her with several potions that would help her return to a normal weight, and ease the pain of her ruined lungs.

"I'll send a little more by post, when it's necessary, once we get the cough out of you, you should be fine," the other witch deftly passed her wand over the unmarked vials, labels with treatment directions appearing in neat script.

* * *

><p>Does anyone actually read this? Does one have to write romance and fluff to get reviews? Is all of my writing crap? I feel alone on the internets! Why oh why is it so silent out there? Reviews are the only pay my poor twisted muse recieves, please dear readers, feed her. I'm away at college and currently subsisting on earl grey tea and alfalfa sprouts, I need soul food. It's so lonely to have a silent story. I know it's bad form to beg for reviews, but if this is total shit I want to know. Please, take this as an open invitation to criticize and nitpick and flame. I welcome your hate mail. WELCOME IT.<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Ch 7

Last Words

From his perch at the bottom of the stairs Severus bolted for his mother's room the instant the two wizards had left, all but tripping over himself in his haste.

"Mum?" he queried in a soft voice, surprised to see she was up and moving slowly about the room.

Seeing him Eileen Snape smiled and seated herself on the edge of the bed patting the space beside her in open invitation to her son. Gingerly, he sat beside her.

"Thank you Severus, you did a good thing… but there are things I need to tell you," Eileen soothed.

Severus paled and his face grew pinched, "A- are you dying mum? You mustn't. You just mustn't. I'll talk to—"

Gently, she embraced him, "Hush now, I'm not dying, not now, not for a little while longer… but I don't know how long we'll have alone or how long I'll be this well and some things need to be said."

He frowned, not liking how she spoke, but was too relieved to resist wrapping thin arms about his mother's torso hugging her tightly. She felt too small, smaller than he.

Eileen Snape rested her chin on the top of her son's hair patting his back absently. Where to begin?

"Severus, you have your father's temper."

Immediately the lad pulled back a look of utter horror on his face, "No, no I haven't mum, I wouldn't—I—"

"Hush, hush, just listen, you have your father's temper. It's true, but you have the pride of the Prince family, my pride. I want you to remember, whenever you lose your temper, I want you to remember, a Prince never does anything to sully their honor. No matter what, no matter how angry you become there are some things that are simply below you."

Severus mulled this over, it was true… when he became angry he was dangerous, "Like what?"

His mum frowned slightly, "Well… have you ever been angry with Lily?"

Severus looked away, a slight flush on his features after a moment he nodded his head.

"But, you would never want to hurt her, even when you're furious?"

"NO!" he was very vehement on this point.

"Why?"

This stymied the boy, he opened his mouth closed it and tried again, "Because Lily is nice, and a girl, and I'm much stronger than her."

"Precisely, your fierce anger isn't a bad thing, used correctly it can be an advantage, but you must never hurt someone who is smaller or weaker than you are… or you will live to regret your temper. It's all a matter of control, you must always be in control… the moment you are not you can be manipulated by your emotions," Eileen Snape looked down at her son and away.

He was her son, he had her face, her eyes, her hair, even her pride… but he was his father's son, seeing him back after four months, he'd grown taller, already his body was beginning to get the stretched, too thin, look of a boy who would be tall, his shoulders, spindly now would soon fill out like his father's… and his temper. At Hogwarts he'd finally been given a method by which to back up the threat that had always been present. The threat his father had always sensed and feared in him.

She was terrified of him, for him. He would be a great wizard, Prince's always were. So powerful… yet his temper, a fatal flaw, so his father got angry and beat his son and wife, maybe one day he would become furious and kill them. Two deaths, not so great a loss as compared to a wizard, how easy in a fit of rage or cold vengeance would it be to end tens of lives, more.

Her heart near burst with pride in him, despite or perhaps to spite her fear. He was a good lad, a strong boy, a true Slytherin. He loved so few so fiercely, everything about him was fierce, his love, his rage… all things so terribly strong.

"You must remember, Severus, a Slytherin's strength is in control, you mustn't let others use your emotions to manipulate you. You must always appear strong, that is the secret to true strength… if you can uphold the image for long enough, you will truly fit the mold."

Slowly, he nodded and Eileen Snape nee Prince blinked back a dry stinging sensation in the back of her dark eyes, "I fear for you, my dear, my Severus. Words do not teach, they attempt to teach, you will not learn until you have lost something irreplaceable… perhaps forever. As I have, I lost so much to have you… I gave up my magic… my family…my name… but that loss does not mean you give up. You must never give up your pride, for no one can ever take that from you but yourself. You have to hold to it. always… even after you've fallen… especially after you've fallen."

* * *

><p>When the wizard in law appeared, Severus was allowed to stay. He was glad, he did not like to be left in the dark.<p>

The man appeared about middle aged, and had a pair of thick spectacles seated on a large beak of a nose. He carried a thin leather briefcase, and passed the still prone figure of Tobias Snape in the hall without a glance.

Eileen Snape was seated primly at the kitchen table and gestured, with all the grace and gentility of a cultured lady, for the man to be seated.

Taking his seat he inclined his head respectfully to the lady of the house, "Mrs. Eileen Snape, I presume?"

His mother nodded.

"I am William Fabro, I take it you desire to write up some custodial papers for the boy?"

"Yes, I would."

The man nodded, "Ah, yes, I see, well then, what sort of guardianship transfer would you like? And will you require these documents to come into effect immediately or…" he glanced at the child, "posthumously, as it were."

"Immediately, I would like to retain primary care, but I find I have more and more difficulty keeping up with the various school related documents he has need of. I would like to transfer partial guardianship to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the event, I pass, I would like Severus to be made a ward of the school, until the age of 16 at which age I want him to be emancipated. I would like to revoke all paternal rights from one, Tobias Snape, effective immediately."

The words were only half intelligible to the boy, but he watched alertly, trying to divine the purpose of all this official paperwork.

Retrieving several prewritten contracts from his case he began to mark in the specifics. The three sat in silence for several minutes as he wrote. Listening to the scritch, scritch, scritch, pause, dip, scritch scritch scritch, pause, dip…

Sitting up he looked over his work and slid it across the table for his mother's approval. She studied it carefully, asked that several phrases be changed, and once this was done signed her name.

Casting a quick drying charm the wizard rolled up the parchment sliding it into his case.

"Would the lady desire to write a disposition of goods and property for the boy?" he inquired.

His mother nodded and Snape was once more banished from the room.

* * *

><p>I do hope everyone is enjoying their fourth of July, wherever they may live. This is my gift to you a few hours early. Please enjoy, ruminate, perculate, review...<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

Ch 8

When he returned from his disastrous winter holiday Severus learned his mother had made arrangements for him to remain at the school for all major breaks.

He argued vehemently with Slughorn over this but was bluntly informed that he had no power to sway the decision.

"Who will look after her!" he'd shouted in rage, only to be nonchalantly dismissed as a child throwing a tantrum.

Fine then, if no one would allow him to look after his mum, he'd make sure she kept taking her medicines. However, he was then informed that the meager allowance his mother provided was not to be spent on restricted medical potions.

For over a week he more or less sulked. Lily commiserated with him, but she didn't really understand his fear. She thought he was homesick. She didn't understand the squirming unease in his gut, and the bouts of rage so fierce the only answer was to sneak out to the forbidden forest and blow holes in the ground.

How could she send him away?

Finally, inspiration struck.

* * *

><p>Slughorn's office was quite opulent Severus decided, staring about at the rich wood and velvet furnishings, feeling the thick piles of brightly colored carpet shift beneath his feet. He jumped slightly when the door behind him opened and Professor Slughorn entered.<p>

"Ah, Severus, my boy, take a seat, take a seat. I'm very sorry, I had something that needed tending to," the effusion of words from the portly middle aged man, washed over the boy to little effect and as Slughorn settled his considerable girth into a plush chair on the other side of an expansive maple desk he smiled warmly at the boy, "What is it I can do for you, my boy?"

"As I am sure you are aware, since I have been made a ward of the school, and it is likely I will be on my own at sixteen, I thought it wise to begin putting aside some funds for myself. If say, I were able to brew an effective veritaserum would you be willing to find for me a buyer? I'd be willing to reimburse the school for the ingredients."

Slughorn's brows which had been creeping steadily higher, now reached the height of their arch, "The ingredients you stole from my private stores you mean? And the recipe you filched from the restricted archives?" he asked achingly.

Severus smirked slightly and inclined his head, "I wanted to know if I could even do it correctly before I approached you."

"Hrmph! Severus, my boy, a good veritaserum takes over six months to brew."

Severus resisted the urge to flinch at the continued endearments, and instead inclined his head, "Actually professor, if one pre-brews the unicorn horns and moonstone flakes with the manticore venom and scarab carapaces into a sort of base starter, it is possible to cut the brewing time in by more than seventy-five percent."

Slughorn's brows were furrowed in thought, "Well that… that is… impossible! Well… if one were to… My boy, this is not something you should keep to yourself, this is the sort of thing you can write into a paper, gain recognition from the wizarding community. Does it work?"

"Obviously it is effective, or I would not have come to you, and why would I do that? As it is I can sell it at half the price the serum is currently available on the market and still make twice the profits… If you sir would be willing to help me contact the appropriate persons, of course."

Slughorn rose from his chair and paced the length of the room in thought. As he walked he mused aloud, "Well… While I can't precisely agree with your means, one cannot argue with the ends… a sample, yes, I'll have to see that… hmmm…. It's not going to put a lot of faith into people, buying from a first-year potions student…. But perhaps… yes… that would do it…. not that I really approve of this rule breaking mind you, but who am I to hold back a bright mind… who indeed… how much did you say you had successfully brewed?"

"Two standard sized cauldron's worth," Severus stated blank faced.

Slughorn's eyes bulged and he stuttered to a stop so suddenly he almost tipped on his face, "Merlin's beard! What do you intend to do if I say no?"

Severus stared up at his professor and calmly replied, "Sell it black market, but I thought it best to come to you first."

Slughorn rocked back on his heels, "Well…well… I should simply have it confiscated, you know."

Severus quirked a brow, "And how would you find it?"

Slughorn glared at the daring child, he did not like the feeling that those cold black eyes were mocking him, "You would tell me, under the influence of but a drop of truth serum."

Severus smirked slightly and said with all the confidence experience gave, "No I wouldn't."

Slughorn dropped into his seat and stared with consternation at the still standing child, "If say, I were to agree to help you, what do you intend to do with the money?"

Severus shrugged, "Vault at Gringotts the most of it. I've got to start saving now in hopes of being able to support myself by sixteen. I'd want to keep a portion of course to buy raw ingredients, and a small amount for personal expenditures."

Slughorn stared hard at the boy whose black eyes stared unflinchingly back. Slowly he nodded, "Alright… I will help you. Only so that you do not go to less savory sources than I… of course. Here is what I propose. I will contact several of my suppliers, they are always willing to buy any of the more interesting things I brew off of me. I will inform them that I have brewed several batches of veritaserum. A brewer in his first year is not the most confidence inspiring potioneer. I ask that if you continue in this, and branch out in your brewing as I suspect you will, that you come to me to procure the necessary ingredients, as many tend to be restricted to prevent just this sort of thing from happening. Is that to your satisfaction, young man?"

Severus smiled widely, "Yes it is sir, I thank you very much for your help, would a three percent brokerage fee be acceptable?"

An uneasy laugh sprang from the already balding professor, the boy was too precocious by half, "Now, now Severus, I only ask that when you come into your own, and I expect nothing less than master's level potioneer from you, my boy, that you remember your humble potion's master. Ahh yes, I think you will go far with a mind like yours… good family too, despite the dilution of the blood…" he trailed off into unintelligible mutterings.

Severus bowed and with a smile far too sharp, said, "I will remember your generosity Professor, my thanks. Shall I bottle and bring the brew to you tomorrow?"

Absently Slughorn nodded intent on his musings.

Severus turned to go, but pausing at the door he said, "Professor, there was one thing… just so Madame Pince doesn't catch me sneaking advanced potion's texts from the archives, might I obtain a few titles through you?"

Slughorn waved this, the simplest and least morally incriminating of his requests aside with a broad smile, "Of course, my boy, I never did believe in holding back aspiring minds. I have a rather extensive private collection, so if you will get me the name or the brew you desire to attempt I will gladly lend it to you."

* * *

><p>Severus struggled to walk nonchalantly away from Slughorn's office. He calmly, crossed the commons and down to the lakeside. He found Lily perusing a charms book in the shade of a large willow tree well away from the pier and the students frolicking in the chill water.<p>

Folding down to a sitting position beside her he waited while she finished her page, dog-eared it and closed her book.

"So how did it go, Sev?" she asked.

He turned to her with a wide grin.

Lily squealed and clapped her hands lunging forward to hug him tightly, "Oh! I'm so happy! I knew it would work! I just knew it!"

Severus was stunned and after half a second hugged her back gingerly and when she released him continued to grin. It had been Lily's idea to approach Professor Slughorn at all. He'd wanted to avoid all chance of discovery by the "powers that be" and have Lucius sell it directly to a rather greasy fellow in knockturn alley, even if he was quite certain that the man was cheating them blind. He'd sold two bottles in that manner already, just to be able to recoup the ingredients he'd destroyed in his first, small, ruined batch.

"Thanks, Lil, Slughorn will be able to get me a lot more advanced texts than I could ever hunt up in the library."

Lily nodded happily and seating herself back at his side flipped open her book and pointed down at the page, "Look at what I've found, Sev, it's not exactly what I want, but if you extrapolate from the diagram, I bet I can tweak it to work…"

Bending their heads, red and black, together over the book Severus studied the diagram. A two way mirror, system was easy. Incorporating speech and hearing, that was difficult, what was currently stumping them was coding it to specific users…

* * *

><p>Slughorn never noticed that he was ordering ingredients that had nothing to do with the potions he was selling, or if he did he kept his mouth shut thinking the boy was experimenting further. He discovered that medical potions were far more difficult than most things. It occurred to him that this was probably why medi-witches and wizards required another five-year apprenticeship at St. Mungo's in addition to Hogwarts.<p>

He dumped several batches, had to test several more on himself and a few unsuspecting students. His first attempt at Heart's Cheer sent him into giggling fits. Lily helped and when she came down with a cough in March tried a Dry Lung that made her sneeze uncontrollably for a full five minutes… but afterward the cough was gone.

He knew what they were doing was stupidly reckless, but it was the school's fault, if they'd just let him look after his mum, he would have done it in the normal way.

He learned things that no first-year had any right knowing, and flew through potions class. It seemed simpleton's work next to what he could whip up in a snap, such that he and Lily soon were not only to top of the class, but were out pacing their age mates such that Slughorn, having conniption fits of happiness, bumped them up to second year potions.

* * *

><p>Summer break seemed like nothing more than a brief interruption in what was their real life.<p>

Severus almost never stepped foot in his own home except during the day when his father was absent. He'd charmed himself a little room in the cellar, and an outdoor entrance, that no muggle could locate. His mum had gotten the letter about his under-aged magic and threw a fit, but he lied and said it had been a foolish prank on Lily, and he'd just forgotten he wasn't at school. The excuse worked and though he didn't like to lie to his mother he easily devised an arrangement, Mum thought he was staying with Lily, and Lily thought he was staying at home. He felt bad taking dinner with the Evans family, but her parents were very welcoming.

* * *

><p>Second year, brought more knowledge and more daring. Severus branched out in his brewing and Lily began to do almost all of the medical potions. She liked having the extra spending money, and didn't like to ask her parents who weren't very well off, at least not in the way that wizards were. A better quality cauldron cost, in muggle terms, as much as a new refrigerator.<p>

Lily was better at brewing medical potions than he. She had an instinctive knack for knowing just what needed to be done when books were hopelessly vague. He could make cures, but they tended to be violently effective. The sneezing episode was a rather mild incident. Her's were much more gentle and more effective. In the end they sent far more of her work to his mother than his. He on the other hand could brew up a much more potent veritaserum, and had a knack for invention that Lily more often showed in charms work.

She could do amazing things with a wand, brilliant, fantastical things. For example, in their charms exam, Severus was told to lift a thousand pound weight, far too much to be lifted with a levitation spell and not be drained, as several slower children attempted. So he transfigured a pulley system from a desk and cut the weight by sixty percent. A locomotion spell to turn the handle meant he still used charm work and easily passed. Lily on the other hand charmed the iron into a hundred mechanical sparrows each complete with perfect gleaming metallic feathers, and sent her flock for a spin about the room, each executing intricate aerial maneuvers.

Professor Flitwick had nearly danced with delight, jumping up and down and clapping his hands. For the final flourish a single sparrow had separated from the flock and lit on his desk its little dark eye observing him curiously, hopping up onto his hand and allowing itself to be examined by the half-goblin.

When Severus saw that he'd suggested it might be a wonderful offensive spell, one would only need to sharpen the sparrow's wings to razor sharp edges. Lily had reacted to this suggestion badly, and he hadn't brought it up again, although he did attempt it on a much smaller scale later. It worked splendidly cutting a straw dummy to ribbons in three passes.

She didn't like magic used to hurt people, though she was learning defensive spells readily enough now. She would often practice defense against his curses, when he explored his less kosher spells. It pleased him to know she would be able to defend herself, even if she would not actually practice the curses and attacks he showed her how to accomplish.

* * *

><p>Severus didn't spend all his time with Lily. He took up a close association with Lucius, who firmly respected him after the veritaserum episode. He also appreciated being able to get ahold of expensive and restricted brews at the price of the raw ingredients.<p>

He got on with Narcissa swimmingly, and Andromeda passing well, although Bellatrix wanted nothing much to do with him.

He made acquaintances throughout Slytherin, and used the respectability of the house of Malfoy and Black to back himself up. As second year came to a close he used the name Snape less and less, and the name Prince more.

He made enemies in Gryffindor. He knew it bothered Lily, but it just seemed to be a part of life that Slytherin and Gryffindors conflicted. Potter and his gang were particularly hateful little cretins. And as pranks and jinxes on both sides grew more vicious he knew it made Lily uneasy. But Potter was an unholy prick and richly deserved it.

* * *

><p>Summer was gone in the blink of an eye, and mother was doing well, Lily's potions kept her stable and with Severus around she was happier than usual.<p>

* * *

><p>During third year, he and Potter's feud intensified, although both sides were painstakingly careful not to let Lily see the worst of it. She'd blast both parties into the next century. Then listen to the who's right and wrong it was once she'd scrapped their remains off the ceiling into buckets.<p>

Severus was becoming more aware that his time with his mother was coming to a close and began counting his funds trying to determine if he might somehow intervene. He was a year from being free of all the restrictions the school and his mother placed on him. He was trending to be quite well set up by the end of fourth year.

Slughorn had explained he would like to unveil the brewers of _Ink and Fire_, the brand label Slughorn had discretely filed in thier names at the beginning of the year when Severus came into his majority in a year. Slughorn had realized when he saw both the quantity and the highly dichotomous type of brewing being done that he had partnered with someone and it had not been a difficult mental leap to Lily. Lily had suggested the name to mock the derogatory name their association had been labeled by Slytherin's and Gryffindor's alike who did not approve of a mudblood Gryffindor, and a half-blood Slytherin. "Dirt and Blood" they called jeeringly and Lily only smiled while Severus seethed, and waited for his chance at the damned pricks making fun of his Lils.

Severus had wanted to file the brand jointly with Lily, but she had adamantly refused, pointing out that the majority of what was actually sold was his work alone.

* * *

><p>They rarely argued… it honestly frightened Severus when they did. He knew his temper.<p>

"Lils! Don't just walk away, I feel like I'm cheating you out of honest work."

Lily crossed her arms across her chest glaring heatedly up at him, "I've already told you no, Sev. Why must you keep insisting? I don't… you do most of the work anyway, I've been spending more and more time working on charms things and you know it."

"You started this with me, Lil. You've helped my mum so much, you deserve the credit, as much as you deserve the profits," He insisted his hand sweeping out in explanation over the small store room they had long ago converted to a workspace.

Lily stood silently, shifting from foot to foot, her expression closed, her bright green eyes staring around at the room.

They were not precisely sure where in the castle they were, only that this room was accessed through a secret passage behind an old statue out on the grounds, so weather worn one could no longer determine what it had been, only that it had not been hominid. A twisting, dirt passage of perhaps three-hundred meters shored up by old mildewed timbers gave way to a wide water worn tunnel of limestone that lead in a generally downward direction toward the lake for a hundred meters before the limestone became stonework that seemed to Severus to be very close to the Slytherin dormitories, before the passage began an slightly upward assent and with a near ninety degree turn headed toward the main body of the castle. A cave-in perhaps a thousand meters in had closed off wherever the tunnel was originally intended to let out, and they had magically guarded the entrance before converting one of the many small rooms along the edge of the corridor into their lab. Lily had discovered the passage at the end of first year when attempting to charm the statue guarding the entrance to walk. Severus had undertaken it's exploration, and since November of second year they had been installed here.

She frowned deeply, "Fifty percent is just not fair."

"It's fair if I say it is."

"No it's not, I already take about twenty percent. You may file me in for twenty percent. Then it will be as official as you like, credit wise."

Severus knew her mind was made up and knew, because he knew Lily, that there would be no changing it so he only nodded stiffly.

* * *

><p>Well, I hope you've enjoyed this dear readers. It has certainly been an interesting character study for me. Exploring Snape's roots and all... only one more chapter, and maybe an epilouge...maybe... I don't know if I like the epilouge... we'll see what your response is after chapter 9.<p>

As for this chapter the inspiration was basically that I always wondered why Snape abhored Harry's rule breaking so much... and it occured to me it's probably because he did the same as a child. Any thoughts on this?


	9. Chapter 9

Ch 9

The summer after third year was bad. Mum was doing poorly, and nothing could be done. Severus knew it, but refused to accept it and was reprimanded twice for under-aged magic in the first two weeks.

* * *

><p>Mum was coughing. She said she always did after meals. They were sitting quietly across from one another at the kitchen table, which was smaller than Severus remembered.<p>

He was fourteen. All long limbs and the half-starved look teenaged boys get when they really start shooting up. When they spoke of late it became increasingly about himself, and Hogwarts. Severus understood his mother was living his experiences vicariously through him, and did not mind sharing.

He only hated how sad it sometimes made her. On the whole hearing about the wizarding world seemed to strengthen her, but sometimes, her face would turn melancholy and he would be at a loss as to how to help her.

"Mum?" he said tentatively, "I could do it, you know, I could get you a little room in Hogsmead, or somewhere else you liked, a quiet, nice, little place… I could support you."

But his mum was already shaking her head, her voice tired and the argument rote, "It's enough that you are brewing potions for me. A boy should not have to care for his mother. I—"a deep rattling cough shook her slender frame and Severus clenched his jaw.

As he listened to her cough the rage grew stronger and stronger until he bolted to his feet his chair clattering across cracked yellowing linoleum. Reaching across the cheap, particle board table that felt like matchsticks beneath his palms was easy, and it was too simple to curl a hand that look terrifyingly like his father's around her skeletal, white wrist to pull her hand from her throat.

He didn't even know what he was doing when he pressed his own palm where hers had been and said a word, a word he did not even think he knew.

The coughing which she had fought to smother when she recognized her husband's rage in her son's strong, youthful frame evaporated and she took a deep breath experimentally. It didn't trigger a coughing fit.

Then parental anger swallowed gratitude wholly and she slapped his hand from her throat coldly, "Severus! What did I tell you about under-aged magic!"

But Severus was no longer a scared child, he was an angry man and waved his hand cutting her off, "No, not this time. I can't… You are dying mother. Why will you not let me make you comfortable and safe somewhere? Why can't I do that for you? Somewhere in the wizarding world, or even a muggle place, somewhere away from him, where you can do something to keep that cough from keeping you up all night, keeping you from eating. What pride is there in this hideous place?"

She was still and quiet staring down at the table, unable to look at her son.

In a low, hard voice he said, "At the end of the week we are leaving. I will find us a place. You need not worry about it. I will drag you out of here if need be. Don't pack anything, I will make the necessary arrangements and set you up."

With that he turned and stalked out of the house.

He got the warning letter that evening by owl. He got off easy because it had been wandless, but was warned that further infractions would result in a personal visit by a ministry official.

* * *

><p>He'd gone to Lily and between the two of them they'd contacted several people and managed to rent out a small two room apartment in Roswen a little wizarding community in the northern part of Wales.<p>

They used his mother's name in correspondence and soon realized that they would need to use muggle means to travel. The Evan's family had generously agreed to cover traveling expenses for the two on the understanding that he would pay back the equivalent in galleons to Lily. When he went home a day before Mr. Evans had agreed to drive himself and his mother to the train station, he stopped dead in the door. There was broken glass on the floor. The old vase by the door had been destroyed.

Cautiously he entered, his father should not have been home. The house was eerily silent. Entering the kitchen his eyes took in the scene of destruction, widening in horror. One of the chairs had literally been crushed and he could see blood on the floor. His steps seemed too loud in the silent house as they carried him to the bedroom door.

Throwing it open he found his mother huddled up on the floor, at the foot of the bed. Her face was bruised and a split lip showed the source of the blood. Her leg was bent out at a funny angle and he saw that something in her knee had been broken or twisted. Bending down he checked with trembling fingers for pulse and breath finding both were weak and fluttery.

"Mum," he breathed in a voice choked with rage or fear, he knew not. She opened her eyes when he touched her shoulder, flinching, for her frock hid bruising there as well.

"Sev…" she whispered, "You mustn't be angry, mustn't do anything foolish. It's my own fault…really… it's my own fault."

She cried out when he slid his arm under her knees, the horribly twisted swollen left moving in a way it should not, and back lifting her from the ground. Teenaged clumsiness was gone as strong capable hands carried her from the room, and then from the house. Walking around the house he kicked open the door to his cellar room and walked with extreme care, sideways, down the steps, in a cold sweat that he might knock her head for foot against the walls. She was too small, and too thin, and the pain of movement too much for even her pride, she cried.

Her thin hands gripped at his shirt, spasmodically in response to the pain, yet still she was stubbornly focused on curbing her son. "Please, Sev— You mustn't… He'll not be able to hurt me much longer…"

With infinite care he set her into his own narrow bed, and with an apologetic noise in the back of his throat inspected her knee. Nothing seemed broken, only twisted and pulled in ways it should not, basic anatomy was no stranger to him, he had had to learn a lot on his own to do much of the brewing he did. A human knee is very similar to that of a gnome or pixie, only larger.

Without daring to look her in the eye he suddenly pulled it back into the correct position her scream reverberating in the tiny underground room strangely. Wand in hand he cast an immobilizing charm.

"Sorry, mum, couldn't leave it. It'd hurt worse getting it back once the swelling had really started. Just rest, I'll be back, and we'll leave. He can't find you here. You don't have to worry."

He headed for Lily's nearly at a dead sprint, and scared the living daylights out of Petunia Evans, Lil's rather awful muggle sister with his wild eyed appearance. She didn't want to let him in, but he quite near knocked her over entering.

"Hey!"

"I need Lily. Her room?" he didn't wait for conformation taking the stairs three at a time bursting in without a knock.

Lily sprang to her feet so quickly her desk chair fell over and Severus skided to a halt at the wand being leveled at him, "Lil, mum's hurt bad, tell me you have something for the pain."

Ever quick on her feet Lily walked straight to her Hogwarts trunk throwing it open and shooting questions at him with all the speed and precision of a seasoned medi-witch.

"How?"

"My father," seethed out with a rage that chilled the girl.

"When?"

"Sometime this morning, I was out and didn't hear."

"She breathing alright?"

"Yes."

"Any blood?"

"Split lip, nothing major, her knee's all twisted out of shape, I put it back in place but… the swelling."

"Something for the swelling and the pain, here, bruise paste, high murtlap content, I made it myself, very good," Lily pushed it into his hands and scowled, "Merlin's beard, I only have generic stuff, a sorta first aid kit, I should have made you one."

Catching him by the sleeve she tugged him out of the room, "MUM! I need you to drive us to Spinner's end. Severus's mum's hurt bad," She turned to him, "You don't want to call the hospital?"

"They'll contact my father. They've done it before."

She nodded firmly, "We'll bring her here, you're leaving tomorrow, we can make her well enough to travel, and Severus, Severus," she stopped him reaching up to grab his chin turning his wild eyes down to meet hers, "It's going to be OK."

Jaw tight he nodded and followed her, more relieved than he would ever say to let her take charge. She knew so much more about healing, and right now his mind was awash in too much rage to think straight.

* * *

><p>When they got to his home, Severus just threw it all to hell and levitated his mother into the back seat of the Evans's car. He'd already done one thing, might as well finish the job. He and Lily squashed awkwardly into the passenger seat, Lily perched precariously on his legs gripping his shoulder and the seatbelt for stability, when a very pale looking Mrs. Evans gunned the engine and left the area more quickly than was probably legal. Thankfully, his mum, was oblivious due to Lily's ministrations.<p>

When they arrived back at the Evans home a very officious looking man in a suit just a few decades out of style was standing on the front porch.

Severus hoped out of the car first and glaring defiantly at the ministry official opened the door and levitated his mother with infinite care out of the car and through the door Lily was already holding open, having pushed aside the tall stranger to access it.

He stared, aghast at their daring, and they stared right back. Mrs. Evans had run straight into the house to prepare the guest bedroom for them.

"What is the meaning of this!" He sputtered, "Under-aged magic in broad daylight? In a muggle home?"

"Forgive me, sir," Snape bit out scathingly, "My mother has become gravely injured and it was necessary for me to act for her welfare. This is Lily Evans, my classmate, she is muggle born and her family is well aware of magic. If you would like to wait, I will come speak to you when my mother is comfortable."

Lily did him the favor of shutting the door on the man's face.

* * *

><p>A medi-witch from St. Mungo's was called out and she was able to patch his mum up within a couple of hours.<p>

Severus was issued a hearing date for his use of magic, but was assured, by the plump young witch who showed up, after the stern man he had insulted had left in a huff, that it was just a formality, and once he explained that it had been an emergency situation he would be off the hook.

When it became apparent to Lily that Severus was just about to blow his top, she grabbed him by the sleeve and despite his refusal to leave his mum's bedside dragged him away, sat him down firmly in the kitchen and shoved a plate of leftovers in front of him.

"I'm not hungry," he grumbled, making to get up.

She shoved him, none to gently back down into his seat, "Yes you are, you haven't eaten since breakfast and its dark out."

He shrugged and stared hard at the plate. Lily gave a longsuffering sigh and made herself a plate pulling up a chair to sit beside him.

"Don't be stupid. Eat something, drink something, and you can go back to sitting in that little dark room looking angry."

Severus smiled slightly, and Lily shoved the fork into his hands.

* * *

><p>Ahh, so this is it my dear readers, I have so enjoyed this peice. I send a big thank you to all of my reviewers, mostly Anon's but no worries, I thank you all anyway. Those who post reviews are the reason writers post their stuff online at all ^_^<p>

Is anyone interested in seeing an epilouge? I'm still feeling a tad... dissatisfied with it and so, may not post it at all.

What say you? If you would like to see the epilouge, drop a review on the story. Elsewise, this is goodbye me dear readers. If you liked this you may want to subscribe to me, I have a 40+ chapter sequal in the works. So yeah... stay tuned for that.


	10. Chapter 10

Ch 10

Epilogue

Eileen Snape died on September 18th, in her little downstairs apartment in Roswen, Wales, about four in the afternoon, on a brisk autumn day.

She had never fully recovered from her injuries, and had used a cane to get around during her final months. When her health suddenly took a turn for the worst, they asked if she wanted her son sent for. She said no.

They sent for him anyway.

He arrived via port key on the night of September 17th and kept his mother's bedside until she passed. Not once did she regain consciousness, nor speak with her son before her death.

There was no need. She had told him all the wisdom she had left in the world almost two years previously.

On September 18th 1974 Eileen Snape was not the only thing that died. So too did any warmth or benevolent indifference Severus Snape might have harbored toward muggles, his hatred for his muggle father hardening into a crystalline lens through which he judged everything else.

To many, who did not see him, in that small, underground room, somewhere deep in the school, who did not hear the anguish in a single shout of rage, and did not see the destruction he wreaked in a small patch of the forbidden forest on September 19th, it seemed as though Severus Snape did not grieve at all for the passing of his parent. Many only noted that he seemed even colder than was normal, and wondered that even a Slytherin could be so heartless.

* * *

><p>He did not know how long he had been kneeling at the center of the burned out clearing.<p>

The truth he had learned in first year was still true, things wanted to warm up. He really didn't need a wand to accomplish it, but there was nothing left to burn anymore within the barrier he had erected, except for the square meter of untouched growth in which he had stood, and now knelt.

The snap of winter was already in the air, and the flames that had consumed the autumn blood and orange leaves had seemed to blend together. Now everything was black and it was better. His hands were numb and encrusted with ash and dirt and blood and he knew he should stop beating the cold unfeeling earth, but he could not.

He heard the crackle of a step and bolted to his feet his eyes wide and red rimmed, from the smoke, of course. He saw Lily… his Lil, flame red hair, green, green eyes.

He growled, "Go away."

As usual she ignored him and took another few crackling steps across the white and black ash, "Sev? How long have you been out here? It's late."

She did not say she was sorry for his loss. She did not say it would be alright. She did not even say she had heard his mum had passed.

Slowly, he sunk down, curling up into a ball, he did not care how pathetic it looked, she was right, it was cold, and everything that wasn't numb hurt. He heard her settle beside him her slender arms warm and strong wrapping around his back and hooking around his knees, her chin rested on his shoulder, and her hair, warm and red, spilling around the both of them, like a splash of fresh blood, blood which was life, because without blood there was no life, if you did not bleed.

He was bleeding.

"I should have made her leave as sooner," he whispered.

Silence seemed heavy in the still night air.

"My own damn fault."

Lily said nothing, and it was best that way.

* * *

><p>After that one night, Severus Snape did not give in to grief, not outwardly, and to do it he hardened himself to those who had been his friends. And within a year had committed the grave mistake of which his mother warned.<p>

She was right, there was no fixing it. Rage, the rage of his father, had taken hold of him and he had put fire to the crumbling bridge that still tenuously bound he and Lily Evans together.

On one warm afternoon, so very like the one he had met her on, he lost his fiery green eyed girl, his Lil, all because rage had made him once more the fool.

He had never learned in the past, but now, just as his mother had said he would, he fell, and he remembered, and he held to the one thing he had left, his Prince Pride. Ever more the fool, where had such pride gotten his mum?

After that it seemed no great loss or gain to fall in with those who felt about muggles as he did.

And it felt no great sin, in seventh year to smooth his way into the Dark Lord's upper ranks with the cold blooded killing of a muggle male in his mid-forties a resident of Spinner's End, Cokeworth, England.

* * *

><p>He was in his workroom, somewhere in deep in the castle when she appeared.<p>

She came in, wand aloft and trained on him, her hair long and beautiful and the color of fresh spilt blood, no longer flame, it had darkened in recent years, dark crimson, only a scattering on top and at the ends like licks of fire. She was beautiful, as much a woman as he was now a man, and terrible in her fury.

She crossed the room she had not entered in three years in quick strides and laid her wand at the throat of a nearly unrecognizable boy she used to cherish.

"Lils?"

His voice was deeper than she remembered and filled with confusion. Her blind fury wavered, he had not even gone for his wand. But her rage now was no less than his rage then and she hated him all the more for having loved the child he used to be.

"You murdering bastard, don't call me that!" she snapped, her voice like a slap in the face.

The silence was painful, as if they were both listening to the echo of the slap, "Forgive me, Evans, I did not intend to offer offence," he said after a moment, in a blank voice.

She wanted him to rage at her. She wanted him to tell her she was mudblood scum so she could blast him and hate him forever. She did not want him to look at her with wide, warm, dark eyes and say in that small defenseless voice "Lils" all disbelief and hope and greeting and wistfulness.

His indifference now filled her with rage as his anger never would have, because she could hear the hurt behind the emptiness, just she had always been able to.

"Stop. That." She hissed, hauling back and slapping him when he raised one black brow at her in question.

He allowed it once, out of shock or old love she would never know, but when she tried to leave a matching red print on the opposite cheek he caught her hand, preventing her assault, "If it would please you to explain what I have done to so enrage you I would be happy to listen."

"Don't act so innocent!" She screamed, "You killed him! How could you, Snape! How could you!"

His features were as cool and unmoving as if they had been carved from white marble a century before, and when he moved to speak she was surprised to find him made of flesh, "He killed my mother, Lily."

"Don't," she warned.

The slow, even inclination of his head looked like a thing breaking, "As you will, Evans."

"He was still your father, still a human being."

"No, he wasn't."

The silence was painfully heavy and Lily stared into dark eyes which had never seemed cold to her until this moment.

"Why?" she whispered.

"Because he was evil, and deserved to die, and because it was an expedient way to gain favor…" he trailed off. He knew she understood.

She stared up into his familiarly alien features, "Who are you?" she asked him.

He released her hand and stepped back, away from her still upraised wand, "Why are you here, Evans? Surely not only to berate me."

His words doused the feeling of helpless sorrow and loss and her back stiffened, "I came to tell you, that if you touch my parent's I will kill you. If I get that little black letter at breakfast, I will use every curse you ever taught me and there won't be enough of you left to put in the coffin. I'm not one of these helpless muggle borns, I won't just sit there and take it. I will kill you."

He gave her a long unreadable look, and for a moment she was afraid of the rage in his eyes, her hand tightening on her wand. Then it vanished and his voice showed no evidence of the anger she thought she had seen, "If that is why you have come, you need not have bothered. I ate at your dinner table for three years. I helped your mother wash the dishes. Your parents both helped me get my mum out. Did you really think I would come for them next? I have my pride, I owe the Evans family my mother's life twice over. I haven't forgotten."

Her face was stricken and without another word she turned on heel and fled the room, the door swinging behind her. He stared silently after her and closed his eyes. Breathing in deeply he could still smell her familiar scent, it had been a long time since this room, where they had both spent so much time, had smelt like this. Safe, like home.

His chest felt strangely tight, and he breathed deeply to banish the feeling, but it only got stronger as Lily filled his senses, the soft almost piney scent of her skin, the warm feathery scent that was Wingardia, and the lingering smokiness she had always smelled like to Severus, the fire her hair so perfectly imitated.

"Goodbye, Lils."

* * *

><p>Gracious... my heart... it hurts... and I wrote this shit. It feels wrong to leave an author's note after that. Goodbye my dear readers, my profuse thanks to those of you who let me know you wanted to see an epilouge, I looked over it and did a rewrite because of you and look what happened... oh the feels...ack... I hope reading this effected someone out there as much as writing it did.<p>

stay tuned for the sequal...sorta... its alot more AU, this attempts a sorta kinda character study cannon as far as my muse cared to be without loosing that fresh inspiration. The next... well I guess you'll just have to subscribe... It should make an appearance within the month... cross your fingers, depends entirely on how hectic it gets before school starts.

Again, much love to my reviewers, you created this...sorta kinda.


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